a factual account

We chatted a while.  He asked about my fantasies and I told him - about being tied and gagged. 

I didn't really think much of it.  I'd talked about things before.  Nothing came of it. 

I slept. 

Silently, he gathered things.  Grabbed laces from old running shoes in the closet and a pair of socks from his hamper.

Hardon raging, he tried the door and it opened.  Stunned, he checked around.  I snored.  He steeled his nerves - someone would be bent to his will, his power. 

Swiftly he prepped a knot to secure his prey.  He gingerly placed my wrist in the loop and then gathered my hands together.  He managed two loops before I was aware. 

My scream was cut short by a brutal hand, crushing my mouth.  The other held my hands fast and then he demanded that I hold still, smashing my body under his.  Another hand jumped to  my throat, when my lips were released, he wanted to know where condoms were. 

I complied and found the socks rammed down my throat till I was choking.  In the short time I had to clear my throat and mouth, he found them and some hose.  He took the skimask and pulled it backwards over my head to keep the gag in. 

Straddling my back, then he used the hose to strangle me.  "You're a panty boy now aren't you..."  I felt the hose tighten.  He crushed my body under his and mercilessly strangled me.  I felt things in my head and felt I was spinning, falling... convinced I was going to die.

I came round on my back and realized his intent as fingers rammed themselves home.  I fought as best my legs could - throwing him clear and trying to force him away.  He wore me down, ignoring my muffled cries.  He demanded I let him have his way - or he would fist me.  I was worn and exhausted and dizzy.  As his cock rammed home into my trembling hole his hand closed on my throat again. 

I begged for help and cried as loudly as I could through the wet cotton to no avail as I was ravaged.  The stench of my own ass lingered where he had spread it.  I felt the tail of his sweatshirt against my body, the edge of his jeans and belt against my thighs... forcing my legs high above my head and crumpling my prone body under his.

I remember only the nastiness of the gag and the dragging of his clothes.  The brutality of being fucked evaporated into my begging for help.  Suddenly he shuddered as his cock exploded in me.

I was marched into the shower - and partially rinsed.  He told me not to look at him and to wash myself.  He said if I looked at him or followed - he would kill me.  I felt so dirty.

I desperately wanted to cleanse myself of his smell - salty and strange.  He pulled out the socks and unbound my hands.  He turned me to face the wall and yanked off the mask. 

I soaped myself.  Again and again.  I must have scrubbed to try to remove him for over an hour. 

I still can't rid myself of the fear. 

I swear he lurks around the corner.  Crawling through the window.  Finding whatever door I haven't yet locked.