She dropped down, in a mask, and a pair of panties. Barefoot, I grabbed my mask, and rushed over to the balcony doors.
“What are you doing out here?” I held my arms against the cold wind, blowing over the buildings, “Aren’t you cold?”
“Of course, it’s fucking January!” I turned around as she went for the doors. “I got locked out on my balcony.” She stopped, and looked back. Barely covering herself with one hand, and holding the door with the other.
Then, she looked up, and I saw the reflection, right before I was slammed down hard on the concrete. “But,” I was about to say we lived on the top floor, then I imagined her climbing up on her side, then walking across the roof.
Topless, barefoot, wearing nothing but a mask, and a pair of panties. “Give me your hands.”
“I suggest you do what he says, before he gets mad, and decides to hurt you.” She backed up through the doorway, but let go of her breasts, and just let her arms hang at her sides.
“Uh,” I tried to breathe, but managed to get out the word “More?”
“See?” she laughed, “I told you he was into it.”
“No, he’s already hurting me, ow. You don’t have to twist them so hard, what do you want?” I was starting to think. I could almost breathe, the wind was only knocked out of me for a moment, and it took him a while to get the rope around my wrists.
“Get up,” he grabbed it, and hauled me up. “We’ll talk about it inside.” I recognized her voice, first. Actually it was her laugh when she stopped playing scared, and cold. She threatened me, as if he hadn’t already hurt me, my chin isn’t bleeding, is it?
I can’t see through the mask, and of course they’re both wearing masks too, but I can’t place her. Voice, that laugh, and her body. I don’t know anyone on my floor with that laugh, and I haven’t seen any of them naked, or this close. Then, it hit me.
I don’t know her, as Candy, but that’s obviously not her real name. You don’t use your real name on line, as a call-girl. Model, Escort, whatever they call it that’s legal. Cam-whore, maybe. She did some camming first just to leave me wanting more. She’s a tease, with a filthy mouth, but I like that.
“Huh!” I relaxed, when her accomplice pulled my hands out. Over the back of the chair, and supported me by the shoulder while I “Sit down.”
Gently, he even patted it. I’d only seen her once, personally. She came up here, and got a look at the place, but I guess it took a few months to set up this robbery. The security system? Doesn’t do a whole lot of good if I open the door for her. The perfect bait, what was I going to do, leave her out there in the cold?
Not likely. “Now,” he stepped around, and no surprises there. He was big, built like an athlete, and dressed like a paramilitary guy. Dark blue cargo pants, black boots, something strapped around his thick thighs with a climbing clip hanging on his hip, and a rope bag sticking out of the side pocket. “Let’s start with your password.”
“Got it,” she came in with my laptop open. My robe on, but nothing else besides the mask. Hair tie, and a flash of sky blue from her underwear. “Not the password, of course.” She sat on the couch, and crossed her leg over to hold it up. “Go on, tell him.”
“Sorry about the tackle.” He shrugged, “I’m not a sadist, I don’t get any pleasure out of hurting people.”
“Come on, man. It’s just a password. Tell him.”
I nodded, “One, four, A. Dollar sign, two, four, A.” She nodded, typing. “Pound sign.”
“How do you do the sign for pounds?”
“Hash tag.” The guy nodded, “Like the pound sign on a phone?” He turned to ask me.
“Yeah.” She’s young. I don’t know, early 20s, a model? Yeah, too young to remember calling it a pound sign, instead of a #HashTag, apparently.
“We’re in.”
“What are you looking for, Candy?” She looked up. “This is a lot of trouble to go to for the photos you took.” My hands were a little tied up, but it was a lot sexier when she did it. The first time.
“Well,” he turned around, and kept pacing. “You don’t keep everything in a safe, I’m assuming you have a bank account, aps for managing your money, and transferring it. You are an investor, so you can’t do business in cash, right?”
“Huh, yeah.” It’s a robbery. “But I don’t exactly have liquid capital.”
“What’s that mean?” She glanced up from the screen, then back down, and kept clicking with the built-in trackball.
“It means that money doesn’t work, sitting in an account. Interest rates aren’t high enough, so my money works invested in things like companies, projects, and assets.”
“That’s how guys like him,” he turned around, still pacing, and hooked his thumb over his shoulder, but I’m starting to think. “Avoid paying taxes.” More clearly, she’s just a whore. A damned good one, but he knows the ins and outs of finance a little better. He’s not a broker, nor even a CPA, I’d bet. He’s been around them though, enough to pick up some of the basics, and he’s certainly not just some dumb jock.
I guess, I temporarily flashed back to college, when I was bullied, because I was more brain than brawn. Also, he said the word tackle, which hinted at football, I suppose. Now, I’m thinking he carries himself less like a Cop, and more like a Security guy. Bodyguard, a desk watcher doesn’t really get to spend time with high value clients like myself.
Also, a cop wouldn’t have asked for my arms, so he could tie me up. He would have his own handcuffs, hell she knows where I keep mine. Looking over her shoulder, he kept one eye on me, but pulled something out of his other pocket. Another pocket, the on on the leg that wasn’t filled with an empty rope-bag.
“Here,” she pulled a chord out, and plugged it into the USB.
“Is that a floppy drive?”
“No, DVD. Read only, just in case you have any programs. It’s better than a firewall, or using the disk drive built into your computer.”
Security programs, but he doesn’t act like a Hacker. Either, he’s in command. So, maybe ex-navy? Not SEALs, and it doesn’t have to be Navy. You can probably buy those pants at any surplus store, but they do cybersecurity on ships, and subs, too. Right?
Other than that, and the harness, he could be a maintenance guy. In a ski mask, but walking around in masks these days. Especially out on the roof, 20 storeys up to check the heater, or the elevator. No wait, there’s no 13th floor, but the roof would be one floor up, so yeah. 19 storeys up? Why does it even matter how high we are? Is that how they got up there?
The ropes are tight, but comfortable. To me, honestly I’ve gotten so comfortable in this kind of position that I can relax, but they’re not uncomfortable enough that the blood rushes out of my head. So, I can think, for all the good that’s doing me. Still, there’s no way of knowing what might be important, but the altitude is unlikely to change, so the cops can look it up.
“So,” he straightened up, “You comfy? What is it with you rich guys, and kinky sex, anyway?”
I shrug, “I don’t know, I don’t speak for the entire class, but after you have enough vanilla, you tend to acquire a taste for something spicier. Am I right? How’d you get partnered up with her, if you’re so innocent about this stuff?”
“None of your business.”
“Of course not, but it struck me as a pretty immature question for a burglar that does home invasions with a prostitute for bait.”
“You did remember me,” She patted her chest, “I’m touched. Nice robe, bye the way. I’m keeping it.”
“Is that what this is, some way to get back at us for being successful since you’re forced to sell your body for money?”
“Ha! Well, I guess you’d be a shrink if you’re any good at getting into people’s heads, but no. You have money, and I like it. It’s not really all that complicated. Honestly, you made it too easy to resist.”
“Huh, yeah. All right, neat trick out on the balcony. How many times have you pulled that stunt?” Obviously, whatever they’re doing with that disk drive takes time, but I’m not going to tell them they’re wasting it. There’s nothing on that computer, I don’t use it for business, I use it for pleasure.
“Huh!” She set the computer down, and got up. “Well, I’m getting bored, and horny, so.” I couldn’t see anything on the back of the screen anyway, so I looked up to catch my robe splitting open. “Yeah.”
Stepping up on the table, it supported her weight, easily. I mean okay. She fucked me on that table, so it could support both our weight, but standing on the glass surface like that barefoot. A part of it wanted it to shatter, and cut up her legs, but I needn’t have worried.
He went to her, and picked her up. Easily, her heels kicking up, and the robe slipping off behind her. They spun around, and she wrapped her legs around him. I blinked, realizing that he’d dropped the harness, at some point. Behind the couch? I don’t see it anywhere else, but. “What the fuck is going on now?”
“Shut up, what does it look like? I’m going to fuck my girlfriend now, if you don’t want to watch.”
“Wha, up. But, what’s that supposed to do to get information out of me?”
“Take the edge off, come on lover.” She grinned through the mask. “Let’s go in the kitchen.”
“Uh, yeah.” He just put her down on the island, and spun her around. Bending over, and looking up at me. The whole time, they got his pants open together, and she arched her back. “Huhneah! Uh, fuck yeah. Uh!”
“Huh, don’t move. Don’t say a word, and don’t try anything. Huh, huh!” He just stared at me, humping steadily, but hard enough to make her shake with the impacts of the thrusts.
“Huh yeah. He couldn’t fuck me like this uh! He couldn’t fuck me at all UH! Fuck me!”
“I am!”
“Uh just keep fucking me, hard and deep yeah. Lover, uh you’re such a good fucker. Unlike some dickless dilettante that has to get tied up to get a hard on! Uh fuck! Me, uhhhHH! FUCK! Augh!” She shook her head. “Oh god. Omagahd! Augh! Augh!”
“Huh, snh!” Honestly? No, I don’t. I don’t have any problem with impotence, and she knows it. I fucked her just fine without bondage, before we even got into how I like to be humiliated. Yeah maybe not that hard, but if he was trying to hurt her. Nah, he knows he can’t. She’s a whore, a rough sex whore, he knows she can take it, and get off on it, but this?
It sure helps. Even the throbbing erection, and the complete inability to touch it. This weird reverse cuckhold thing? Well, she’s not my girlfriend, I don’t even date. Not in a Christian Grey kind of way, I’m not delusional, narcissistic, sadistic, and that poorly written. It’s just not something I ever had any interest in. Not when I could afford better sex, from professionals.
Dilettante? All right, I’ll own that. I’m not even particularly good at income diversity. Insider trading, and I know it’s illegal. We all know, better than the FBI that investigates things like security fraud, because we have to to get away with it. That’s the business, you can’t make any money legal gambling without some insider information. We know better that anyone what’s legal, what they can investigate, and what they can actually prove in court.
You just screw over the little guy. Well, not little guys like Him! “Huh!” He just relaxed, took a deep breath, and put an elbow down. Blew out the front of his mask, “HUH!” And shuddered, but never took His eyes off me. “Wh fugh. Huh!” Just held his head up by the chin, and shot his wad. “Whew, hahauh! Yeah.” He patted her ass, rolling over to look at me. “Great lay, of course, I don’t have to tell you that.”
I nodded, “Your search program done?”
“Oh, ha! No, it’s not a search program.” She hopped down, and kicked her underwear off a heel. “It’s a banking program. I thought you did this for a living.” She waved around my apartment, with both hands, and shrugged. “How did you make all this money, and forget that we have to send the money somewhere, securely?”
“He’s just playing dumb.”
“Uh!” I tensed up, when I felt his hands on my shoulders. Behind me, and how the fuck did he do that in those boots, on bamboo floors?
“Relax,” he dug his thumbs in, and rubbed circles around my shoulders. “I told you I wasn’t going to hurt you.” He let go, and ran his hands down my arms. “You’re not having any trouble, keeping it up, huh? Snh.”
He smelled my hair, feeling across my abs, and down between my legs. “Nh, no! Uh, you’re.”
“Still not going to hurt you. Relax, these silk?” He felt inside my waistband, and I closed my eyes.
“Huh!” Took a deep breath, and let it out again. Counted to 6, slowly inhaling, and tried not to hold my breath between that, and the exhale. “Huhhhhhhh. Yes.”
“HhHhHhn!” Her laugh changed. It was always dirty, but this time, it sounded evil, so I looked up. She shook her head, “Sorry, I just love that trick.”
My waistband snapped back and he withdrew his fingernails, from just touching the top of my boxers.
“So,” he came around with his hands up. “What programs do you use to liquidate assets, and transfer funds?”
I shook my head, “It doesn’t matter.” I’d been holding this back, but now I could play it to put off him, raping me? “I don’t have them here. I don’t use that computer, everything is at the office.”
“So, what?” She shook her head, sarcastically not believing me. “You just stop trading until you can open the office again?”
“No, I.” Just got sexually assaulted. “I literally phone it in.” It’s a little interesting that now I know what it feels like, to be molested? I’m not a child, but I have been. Not that long ago, but I wasn’t sexually abused. Other than the usual locker room stuff, towel snaps, pulling down each other’s pants, or getting my ass patted.
It’s immature, homophobic, and asexual, because it’s just kids. Being kids, I didn’t have a sexuality before, but no. I’m not gay. “What trick?” He asked.
“Oh, I thought you’re doing it on purpose. Asking yes or no questions? So first he said no, and then he said yes.”
“Huh?” I shook my head, “He just asked.” If my underwear was silk. “Of course, you’re. You, you?” I don’t even know what to call him?
I’m not a child, but he sure made me feel like one. A scared little boy, sitting on uncle bad touche’s lap. I guess, or a pastor, or whatever.
“I’m getting impatient.” He squeezed his glove, so it creaked in his fingers.
“Huh, you just. You don’t have to threaten me, with violence.” I managed to swallow the lump in my throat, “Honestly, that sexual.” I closed my eyes, shook my head, and tried to take a deep breath. “I’m not gay, but.” I could barely even whisper, “Just promise to be gentle.”
“Me neither.” He shrugged. “I’m just here for the money.”
“But you. What you did, you’ve done that before. You had to know how to do that, she couldn’t teach you how to put me under like that, she wouldn’t know how.”
“Ha! God, that’s insulting.”
“No, it’s not like that. It’s not even sex. HUH!” He touched my shoulder, and I froze. His hand got heavy, so heavy, it felt like I would going to snap in half sideways, then I heard his breath.
“Huh,” it sucked back in over his teeth, so I could see him smile, and then his eyes. HIS EYES!
“I know.” He nodded. Let go, and stood up. Turned away, and started walking off. “I’ve just never done it to anyone else before.”
He shrugged, and I finally realized that I had to take a breath. “Where’s your phone?”
;
Candy (FemdoM Menage Troi)
I don’t know, John? Yeah, he’s a John. I know people well enough to tell he’s got some experience. Law Enforcement? Probably not. Iraq, Afghanistan? Either, or both, it doesn’t really matter.
I didn’t know that he molested, but it doesn’t surprise me. That was part of the plan, and I guess it explained a lot, so file it under GTK, and move on. I’ve got a job to do, and as much fun as it is, humiliating wall street types for money, I can’t do that my whole life.
I have a shelf life. I finished college, got lucky at a few parties, hooked up with the wrong people, and found a good way to make a lot of money quick. By referral, that’s one secret I can share. Go ahead and open a Chaturbate, that’s just amateur porn, but don’t expect to live out Pretty Woman that way. Even if you look like Julia Roberts (I don’t) there’s just too much competition there, but it’s good cover.
I nice place to “Meet” people safely, but only on Referral. See, all you really have to do is meet one. Child molester, masochistic stock broker, politician, or whatever. He tells his friends, they get the code words, and get on chaturbate. You show them a good time, go out on a date, make a lot of money, and he tells his friends… Rinse repeat, that’s how you build up a high value client list quickly, but I’m not planning on cashing that in.
This is my retirement, and I don’t mind telling you that I’m actually 26. I’m bragging about it, because I figured out something in college. Business school. I was going to do this, or at least I thought I wanted to, until I found easier money, but you know what?
Stocks, commodities, “virtual assets.” See, the boat doesn’t actually have to exist, for it to be insured. No really, you can even Rent a boat, tape over the name, paint another one on it, take some pictures, and get it appraised online. There’s a lot more to it than that, you have to forge serial numbers, titles, a bill of sale, and convince the manufacturer to admit that they made it, then forgot about it, but that’s not really important. Nowadays, they’re not going to send someone out, to look at your boat.
You can get it insured, peel the sticker off the real name, take it back to the guy that loaned it to you, then report it stolen. Wait a few years first, honestly, it should appreciate if you know anything about boats. I don’t, that’s just an example, but I’ve got an even better scam here.
“What do you want?” he asked. Even before we got him inside. Simple, I’m stealing his whole Portfolio. After he “Trades” it. Moves it over from his shell holdings to my shell holdings, it can’t be traced. Just numbers on the screen, when you buy Pork Bellies, they don’t call up the slaughterhouse, and tell them to load up a thousand trucks full of Pork Bellies. They type it onto a computer.
These are your pork belly futures now. The pork bellies don’t even have to exist, any more than the boat. It’s just futures, and that’s what I’m here for. We’re stealing his futures. That takes care of the who, what when where, why? For the money, but;
HOW. That’s the easy part, because I’ve got 15 years of experience, fucking for money. Whole nother stories, but it took a while to find one with a diverse enough portfolio, of untraceable transferrable assets, and the right set of kinks. We didn’t have to threaten him, yeah that’s fun, it doesn’t hurt anything in the long run, but this guy. Mark, this Mark, he’s not going to give it up to make it stop.
He wants you to tease him. He wants you to bring him right to the edge of orgasm, and stop. Over and over again, he wants to feel dirty, used, ashamed, and victimized. Why? Well, because he’s never had to struggle, work hard, or worry about anything in his life, and it makes him feel special. He’s entitled, so entitled that he has to beg for an orgasm to feel special. Pays good money for it, and honestly it’s hard work, but he can go for hours.
I joke about it, because it’s one of his favorite buttons. You can spam it all day, and never wear it out, but honestly, he can keep it up for hours. Stay in a constant escalating state of blue balls, and beg you for more. Harder, kick him in the balls, and he’ll want more. I don’t know, I’ve never ejaculated that way before, but guys aren’t multi-orgasmic. So, the next best thing is to ruin orgasm after orgasm, so when it does finally cum (As a surprise, that helps) it’s mind blowing. Apparently, I’d kinda like to know how that feels eventually.
Oh well, I might live long enough for them to invent a way to hack into someone’s brain, record it, and play it back with me jacked in to experience jacking off. I certainly know how to do it, as long as I can afford it when it cums out. For now, I can just imagine hard wiring my brain to his, strapping him down, ball busting him, sucking, fucking, stroking, and teasing him right to the brink of orgasm, then feeling every second of sensation as I’m doing it to him.
That would be an Ultimate. I don’t know, I’m sure there’s a The Ultimate that’s slightly different for anyone, but while I’m fantasizing, that would be great. “Huh!” I plopped down, and picked up the computer. Temporarily satisfied by 1 good fuck, I checked the upload. “Well, it’s done, so you know OANDA, of course.” I turned the screen around. “I don’t need you to use whatever you use at the office, or whatever girl you use at the office to do your work for you. I just need your login.”
“I know it, but I don’t use it.”
“Okay,” I shrugged. “Go ahead, and get started.”
God, he’s got the blinders on. Not John, Mark. After the first time I distracted him, so John could come up behind him, you’d think he wouldn’t be as surprise, but he tensed up, again.
“Relax.”
“Hhuhhhhh!” I rolled my eyes. 7 second yoga breath. I could practically hear the “OHM!” Echoing in his head. He wasn’t lying, he’s not gay. Not even bi curious, we worked that out in bed. That’s another one of his buttons, making him lick his mess off my feet. he’s not a foot freak either, in fact they’re disgusting, that’s the point.
He wants you make him do, what he doesn’t want to do. Honestly, I needed his muscle. (John’s not Mark’s.) I knew a guy that knew a guy that worked security for this building. Let people in for deliveries, maintenance, had the keys to the access hatch in the elevators. nobody was using them anyway, and I have an appointment to come back when all this is done, but he’s kinda cute. I love a guy in uniform, especially when it comes with handcuffs, and he’s even got cameras in the elevators so he can watch me fuck him in there when we’re done.
“No, don’t. Please, I.”
“Huh, I love the feel of silk on skin. Hot hard manflesh, you’re not bad. You know, pretty well endowed. I’m sure you don’t get complaints. When you can keep it up, right?” He looked up, and winked, but Mark just nodded. in a trance, it’s not hypnosis. It’s not quite meditation, but I guess closer to that. He has to do his part, the Mark. He has to be into it, but he doesn’t have to consent, let alone trust.
This Mark, specifically. I mean, don’t think that real BDSM is like this at all, don’t try this at home, I’m a professional, and guys like him are probably not even 1 in a million. He actually wants to be abused. If not raped, I don’t know if he can go that far, I sure can’t. Maybe with a strapon, but I don’t really like tools. Yeah, I use them, tools of the trade, but I don’t get anything out of them.
Again, my cyberpunk fetish probably ruined that too. I can thank my mom for that, she didn’t like fairy tales, and fantasy. It was the 90s, so I got Neuromancer instead of The Hobbit. Hard wired instead of Hairy Potter, Snow Crash. “Huh!”
“Uh, stop! Snh, stop.”
“Shup! Huh.” Mark fixed his mask, before he looked up. “Oh come on. You like it, don’t insult me. It’s hard enough for me, I never gave a blowjob before, but it’s not that bad.”
“Huh huh huh!” Wide eyed, and trembling, but finally he relaxed with a shiver, and gulped. “Yeah, you’re not bad, if that’s true.” He shook his head, “No, you’re lying. Come on, man. I’m not a virgin, you’re too good a cock suckhuH!” He straightened up, and winced. “NGH sorry! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it, stop. It hurts!”
I figured he was crushing his balls somehow. “Huh!” he just slumped in the chair. This hideous bauhaus monstrosity, that doesn’t even look like a chair. Okay, a sculpture, you can sit on, a reproduction from the original molds, because he told me all that. So, it’s worthless, expensive, but I’m not even going to try moving art. Yeah, I could probably find someone who’d pay thousands or tens of thousands for it if it were original, but it’s not that comfortable.
That’s not the point, of art. My art, this guy, it is the point. He doesn’t want comfort, because it’s all he’s ever known. You have to hurt him, just a little to feel alive.
“Huh, uh god. Where’d you learn to suck dick like that. Fuck!”
“Slup, huh?” He fixed his mask. “In church.” He shrugged, and went back down. Pulling the mask back out of the way once his face was hidden.
File that under GTK, even if it’s not true. It’s a fantasy, so I can break out the Nun’s habit to celebrate. “Uh, uh fuck stop. No stop, I said stop I, uh! UHNAIGH!”
This time, John held on, put his foot up, and let go, right before he landed a knee, right in the balls. “GHN! Uh fuck. Huh!” Mark curled up, as best he could, but then his arms slipped off the back. The bauhaus reproduction tipped over the other way, and the broken broker curled up protectively.
“Uh, nuh! Oh god, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry I couldn’t stop. You didn’t stop.” he shook his head, and tried to suck in breath. “Ngh, why didn’t you stop.”
“I thought you said he could hold it. Worthless piece of shit can’t even do that right.” But it was too late. The twitching soft member stopped spurting, which left him panting, helpless on the floor. ‘huh, i’m sorry.’ shaking his head, ‘i’m so sorry.’
“Huh!” I got up, “Well, a ruined orgasm wasn’t on the menu, but I won’t charge you extra for it.” Call it even for the Egyptian cotton.
“What a let down.” John just shook his head. “I can’t believe I bought that shit. He can keep it up for hours. I should’ve known, nobody can keep it up for hours. I’m gonna go smoke.” He went out on the balcony, and pointed from the door. “Keep an eye on him, don’t let his hands out of your sight!”
“All right!” I snapped to attention, and saluted, “I mean Yes Sir!” I broke down into giggles, so he just slammed her door. “You all right?”
“Huh, yeah. That was amazing! I’ve never been abused like that before.” He looked down, sideways. “No offense.”
“None taken.” I get it. I’m 5’2″ maybe 120 lbs on a full stomach. He’s 6’3″ and he used to twist arms for a living. Pain compliance is really his thing, he’s better built for it, but still. “Huh!” Now, I have to do aftercare. “Well, sit up, you want to talk about it?” I sat on the floor with him, and put my arm around him.
“Were you ever,” He looked over, and shook his head. “Of course you were.”
“What?”
“Molested?”
“Yeah, all right. I was, so?”
“So, what did it feel like?”
;
Author
I can go on, but if you’re interested. The soundtrack for writing this one is Elvis Costello – “So Like Candy” (Mighty Like a Rose) Then, probably “After the Fall.”
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