The Burglary


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Excerpt taken from the unfinished novel 'Backstage Pass'

I declined to join the guys at the pub after our bands had done our soundchecks, as I was going shopping with Lene. I hadn’t seen her since the night of the bomb scare and was curious as to whether or not she’d slept with my dildo up her arse that night as I’d told her to do. I looked forward to punishing her if the answer was no.

Before I could meet her, though, I had to go back to the B&B as I’d forgotten my wallet. I jammed it hastily into the back pocket of my jeans and turned to leave the room, but then I stopped dead, frozen in horror.

A tall man, his face hidden behind a balaclava, stood in the doorway. He wore scruffy clothes – a light blue denim jacket and jeans with holes in the knees, a light grey hoodie and dirty trainers. One leather-gloved hand held a gun, which was now pointed directly at me.

Before I had a chance to react, he slipped into the room and shut the door. Keeping the weapon trained on me, he advanced towards me, backing me up until I was forced to sit on the bed. Only then did he speak.

‘Hands on your head,’ he ordered quietly, his words spoken with a rough London accent. ‘Keep still and keep quiet. Don’t try anything funny or I will shoot you.’

I was absolutely terrified, but also brave enough to demand the explanation I felt I deserved.

‘I said keep quiet,’ he growled, his tone threatening.

The ominous click of the gun’s safety catch being removed scared me into obeying. He kept it pointed at me even as he opened the bedside cabinet and rifled through it, clearly in search of something. And I had the terrible feeling that I knew what that something was.

My fear intensified as the masked man stood up, holding up some short lengths of rope. My stomach churned; I’d put all my kinky gear in the bedside cabinet. The last thing I wanted was to be held captive, completely helpless, by an armed man.

‘Lie down and spread your limbs.’

With the barrel of the gun now pressing against my temple, I had no choice but to obey. As I was bound to the bed in a spread-eagled position, I cursed myself for not trying to make a run for it. And Jonas wouldn’t be back for ages, as he was at the pub with the others. Oh, shit, I thought, trying to hold back a cry of fear, what have I got myself into?

After checking my bonds and satisfying himself that they were secure, the gunman finally put away his weapon. His steel-grey eyes seemed to penetrate me as he spoke.

‘That will keep you out of trouble. But don’t think that I won’t shoot you if you give me good enough reason to. I’m looking for something, Lindsey, and I think you know what.’

I stared back at him, determined not to let him see how afraid I was. ‘Graham sent you here, didn’t he?’

‘Got it in one. He’s my dad. And he was really pissed off when your two henchmen broke into his office that night. If you tell me where his tape is, I can be on my way and no one need know I was ever here.’

‘Except my boyfriend, who’ll be back any minute now,’ I said, hoping he’d believe me – he wouldn’t want to risk being seen by anyone.

‘Then you’d better start co-operating with me,’ he replied, his voice soft but distinctly threatening.

‘I don’t know where the tape is,’ I replied truthfully. ‘It could have been destroyed for all I know.’

‘Don’t lie to me, Lindsey.’ He reached into his inside jacket pocket for the gun.

Oh, fuck, how was I going to get out of this one? I had to make him believe me. My life depended on it.

‘I’m not lying,’ I replied, betrayed by the slight quiver in my voice. ‘I swear to you I’m not.’

The hand about to pull out the gun became still. The masked man’s eyes narrowed suspiciously and he stared at me for a long time. I stared back, heart pounding, wondering if this really was the end for me. Was I really about to die, alone but for my captor and helpless, for the sake of having given life to a sexual fantasy? Surely it wasn’t worth going to these extremes.

‘Okay,’ the young man finally said, his tone soft but reassuring this time. ‘I believe you.’

I didn’t realise I was holding my breath until I let it out gratefully. ‘Thank you.’

He scowled. ‘I don’t know why you’re thanking me, because this doesn’t let you off the hook. I’ll have to take you to my dad now; he’ll want to deal with you himself.’

‘No,’ I said, my voice barely above a whisper. ‘You can’t do that.’

‘And why not?’ My captor was amused now, his lips curling up into a grin. ‘I can do anything I like, and you’re not likely to disobey me with a gun held to your head, are you?’

I was afraid to reply.

‘But there is another way for you to save your skin,’ he continued. ‘All you have to do is pleasure me.’

‘Are you serious?’ I sputtered.

‘Deadly.’ He laughed. ‘My dad said you were good, and I have to admit that I’m a little curious myself.’

Bastard! I couldn’t believe his cheek. But for some reason I couldn't understand, the thought of complying melted the fluttering of fear in my stomach into excitement.
 
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‘You have a lot of interesting shit in here,’ he said, crouching down to rifle through the bedside cabinet once more. ‘I’ve never been into this sort of thing – it’s only for freaks, I reckon – but maybe I can be persuaded to give it a go. You’ll have to stay tied, of course, but I don’t think you’ll mind that too much. I bet you want nothing more than for me to tease and pleasure you.’

I refused to give him the satisfaction of knowing that he was right, unable to believe how easily I was succumbing to him.

‘Let’s see what you’re hiding under here,’ my captor murmured, lifting my tight black long-sleeved band T-shirt and red lace bra to expose my breasts, lying flat while the nipples rose up to meet inquisitive leatherclad fingers. He stroked the little buds almost lazily, sending little pulses racing down to my clit.

‘Nice tits,’ he observed appreciatively. ‘Natural, too, by the look of it – that makes a change. Ever thought of getting your nipples pierced?’

‘No,’ I gasped as he pinched one hard. It reminded me of wearing tight nipple clamps and I tried to pull away; he maintained his grip to evoke more delicious pain.

‘Do you enjoy pain?’ my captor enquired, staring hard into my eyes. I nodded shamelessly, too aroused to speak.

‘Thought so.’ His voice held a note of triumph. ‘Then let’s see what we can come up with.’

My master’s crocodile clips were attached to the loop of my riding crop for safekeeping. My captor removed them and held one up to the sunlight streaming through the window, opening it to examine its jaws.

‘These teeth are really sharp. I bet they would sting like fuck if I fixed them to your nipples.’

I moaned deliriously as the first clip was attached, the intense pain followed by liquid pleasure revisited. As the second was fixed in place, I found myself wishing that I’d been tied up for the previous night’s torture session – not to make the pain easier to deal with, but to prevent me from removing the clips.

My captor took a leather hood, with zips over the eyes and mouth, from the bedside cabinet and pulled it down over my head. It fitted snugly and being made to wear it was deliciously humiliating. Leaving my breasts exposed, he then pulled my tight black jeans, along with the pants matching my bra, down to my knees. I felt more exposed with my clothes pulled aside than if they had been removed completely, but he simply smiled. I wiggled my hips invitingly as he hooked his thumbs into my labia and pulled them apart, revealing my intimate body art.

‘Fucking hell,’ he breathed, his eyes widening. ‘My dad said you had a tattoo on your cunt, but I thought he was talking shit. Is it real?’

I smiled proudly. ‘Yeah.’

‘Fuck.’ One finger slid into my pussy. I moaned and tried to clutch it, but it was removed, now gleaming with my juices. My captor licked at my offering, a satisfied smile showing behind the mask.

‘Mmm, you taste good.’

He unzipped his jeans, freeing his erection; climbing onto the bed, he straddled my head and positioned himself against my lips. I took him in eagerly, and he lifted my head up in order to push himself in further, the dome-shaped head pressing against the back of my throat. I didn’t choke or gag; I taught my slaves to take everything they were given with decorum and applied that to myself also.

My captor grunted as I slid my lips up and down the thick rod, the zip of the hood’s mouth opening scratching at him to combine soft caresses with rough. Tired of that now, I withdrew my mouth and tickled the slit in the head with my tongue, my piercing flicking against it. But it was too much for him; he got off the bed and masturbated over my breasts, his hot cream spattering the rounded globes as he released himself with a snarl.

‘Fuck,’ he gasped, ‘you’re good with your mouth.’

Before I could reply, he strapped a black rubber ball gag into my mouth and zipped up the eyeholes of my mask, plunging me into darkness. He gave each nipple clamp in turn a hard flick and I replied with a muffled cry of agony, more juices gushing from me.

Suddenly I felt something hard and cold pressing against my wet folds. I froze in horror as I realised I was being penetrated by the barrel of the gun. I shook my head frantically, trying to plead with him, but the gag permitted only a series of whimpers to escape.

‘Calm down, Lindsey. I’m not going to pull the trigger.’ My captor’s voice, although slightly irritated, was low and soothing. ‘I promise I won’t do anything you don’t want me to do.’

I had no idea what made me trust him, but by now I was too aroused to care. The gun speared my tight, wet hole, its hard, smooth texture eagerly welcomed. I wanted to grind myself down onto it and squirm, but was afraid that it might accidentally fire. When it was removed from me, I was disappointed, but only until I felt it pressing against my tight rectum. He took my delighted moan as an invitation to penetrate me, the deep, relentless pressure inside me having an intoxicating effect. My breathing was ragged and I tried hard to control it.

‘I’m going to tell you something now. The gun isn’t real. It’s a replica. I wanted to scare you into co-operating with me, and it worked. So you have no reason now to be afraid of it.'

My captor’s tone convinced me that he was telling the truth. I felt my tension drain away and pushed down hard on the gun, achieving much deeper penetration. He laughed and instructed me to raise my arse. Movement within my bonds was very limited, but I managed to lift myself slightly.

Suddenly I felt warm breath on my hungry pussy. A set of teeth closed over my clit ring and tugged very gently. I gave a moan of relief at the knowledge that he was finally going to bring me to orgasm.

‘Be quiet,’ he snarled through his teeth, still gripping the metal ring. But, as he was now fucking me with the gun, hard and fast, it was impossible.

One hand gave my arse a hard slap. I jerked in surprise, but he still had my ring in his teeth and as I pulled away, he refused to let go and the result was a sharp, painful tug to my clit. I cried out and he slapped me again, harder this time, causing me to pull at the ring even more and thus achieve one of the most powerful orgasms I had ever had, the pain and ecstasy mingling and boiling violently inside me.

My captor released my piercing, removing the gun from my rectum at the same time. I lay there numbly, my chest still heaving with the force of the now dying orgasm. My captor waited until my aftershocks had died away before speaking.

‘That was amazing. You really are nothing but a dirty little slut. My dad will be so gutted when I tell him what you’re into – he likes to tie women up, but he didn’t really have the time to do that when he fucked you. Keeps them out of trouble, he says; judging by the way that you just behaved, though, I’m not so sure. Now, I said I believed you about the tape, but my dad wants it back and I’m going to make sure he gets it. So you’d better tell that pair of thugs to give it to you, because I’ll be back in the morning to collect it. And perhaps you and I can do a little more sexual exploring. You up for that?’

I vowed silently that Graham would never have his tape back. But being held captive and fucked by this horny bastard again – definitely!

I couldn’t help wondering why he’d kept his face hidden when he’d told me who he was. More than likely it was because he was as ugly as his father was; perhaps he was afraid that I wouldn’t let him anywhere near me if I could see that. But, whatever the truth was, I couldn’t deny that his anonymity had turned me on.

‘I’ll leave it up to you,’ he went on. ‘If you have any sense you’ll do the right thing. But as much as I’ve enjoyed spending time with you, I have to go now. As you said yourself, your boyfriend’s due back any time, and if anyone catches me here I’ll be in deep shit. See ya, babe.’

Then he left the room, shutting the door behind him, leaving me behind in my sorry state for Jonas to find whenever he got back.
 
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MIRROR: Download from MEGA

Haha, to be honest I can't remember who the burglar really was! :D

I wrote that part of the story a very long time ago (2 or 3 years) and have taken it out several times since then...

And there's not going to be a 'part 2' as such, because it's all part of one long, complicated storyline which runs through the entire novel and gives reason for a lot of other, unrelated things to happen. I just wish I had the patience to start work on it again; I've not touched it in nearly a year, after splitting from my long term boyfriend.
 
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