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Bound To Steal (Adam Darrener)


Bound To Steal by Adam Darrener

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The robber had money on his mind and if he had to seduce women, tie them up and dominate them to get what he wanted, then that was a bonus! Tied and helpless, young Rose gave him the number of the strong room at Price's, bound to the bars and rendered helpless. Elise watched him rob his employers. From the strongroom to the bedroom of yet another lady who succumbs to his ropes, the robber has everything going his way - and when the policewoman arrives and also gives way to his charms, ending up trapped in her own handcuffs, he thinks Lady Luck is truly on his side! In the end he has three naked ladies bound and secured - but the police are outside...

Product type: EBook    Published by: Fiction4All    Published: 12 / 2017

No. words: 47600

Style: Male Dom - M/F, Spanking and Bondage

Available Formats: MobiPocket (MOBI)  EPUB  PDF  MS Reader  This book has a format which can be downloaded to Kindle


Excerpt

Chapter 1

Rose Roberts thought she must be the luckiest girl in the world. She’d read about sex, but she’d never believed that any man could give a girl so much sheer pleasure.
Clive was tall, dark and very handsome; well built, very muscular and terribly virile - and he had the most fascinating dark eyes imaginable. Rose thought he was marvellous. She was completely relaxed; helpless, breathless and damned near speechless; running with sweat, tingling and throbbing everywhere.
What a fantastic way to spend a Sunday night, she thought.
The man who’d given her all this pleasure and got her into such a frantic state of arousal, lay by her side, keeping her still —not that she wanted to move. She couldn’t move very much - not with her arms spread wide and her wrists tied to the bed head.
Rose didn’t want him to move, either!
She was on her back with her legs spread. He was leaning on one elbow, smiling down at her, stroking her small breasts and her slim body, teasing her nipples, maintaining her arousal and his dominance. They were both naked on Rose’s bed in her small, neat flat.
If he does that to me again, she thought, I’ll pass out! But if he doesn’t, I’ll scratch his eyes out!
At that moment, Rose would have given Clive anything he asked for. She would have killed for him, if he’d asked her to. He’d changed her life completely in the past few weeks.
Clive leaned over her and she moaned anxiously, almost dreading what he may do next - but she didn’t really care what he did. He ran his fingers through the thin mousy hair on her mons and Rose writhed slowly, arching her back as if she was in agony. But he went on stroking her until she was gasping hopelessly.
“Give me those numbers again,” he said.
He spoke quietly, still running his fingers through Rose’s mousy pubic fuzz. He didn’t touch her taut conical breasts, or her small sensitive nipples now.
Rose opened her eyes and saw him smiling down at her. She tried to focus her blue eyes, rolling her head weakly from side to side in frustration.
“Give me the numbers again, Rose. Just to check.”
Rose nodded. She’d give him anything he wanted, and he knew it. He smiled and her insides melted.
“Are you sure you can remember them all?”
Rose nodded again. “Give me a minute to get my breath back.”
“Of course,” he said, smiling. “There’s no hurry.”
He seemed to know exactly how she was feeling; knew that he only had to touch her, to have her turned-on again. He waited, knowing and smiling. But he didn’t touch her again.
“Look at the time!” he said softly. “It’s almost three a.m. I’ll have to go soon.”
“Oh! ... Again?” she gasped. “Please, Clive!”
He leaned over her, reaching for the notepad and the pen he’d put handily by on the bedside table, letting Rose see him, erect again - and want him.
Rose had a good head for figures. She closed her eyes and began to give him the numbers, from memory. He wrote them down below the two sets he’d written earlier. They were the same numbers in the same order. He smiled, satisfied the figures were correct.
“Good girl,” he said, as he put the pad and pen back on the table. He kissed Rose then, deeply enough to take her breath away.
She had no idea why Clive wanted the number sequences, though he’d tried to explain this to her several times. She didn’t really care why.
“Please, Clive,” she whispered. “Hard! Make me squeal!”
“Remember, Rose! You asked for it!”
“Mmmm!” she nodded, smiling.
She sighed deeply as he began to touch her again. His fingers were like electric shocks. She began squirming slowly, panting in anticipation. She lay there with her eyes closed.
He knew she was a screamer. Rose’s eyes opened wide as she felt him move into position. She closed them again, smiling.
She gave a sharp nasal gasp as he slipped into her. She was too breathless to make much noise. He worked her up toward her peak slowly, knowing this wouldn’t take very long. She never did need much when she was thoroughly aroused.
Rose gripped him hard between her slim thighs, with her ankles crossed above his back. A few hectic minutes later she began to strain for her climax. She became tense, almost rigid, straining hard, with her eyes closed.
“Oh!” she gasped softly. “Oh-h-h-h-h!”
He put his hand over her mouth as she opened it to squeal. She writhed rigidly as she reached orgasm. A few moments of frantic heaving, then she began to relax. He took his hand from her mouth, amused by her reflex quiverings as she came down slowly. Finally, she sighed and opened her eyes.
“Oh, that was marvellous!” she muttered, smiling wanly.
“I’m pleased you enjoyed it. Now, open your mouth.”
Rose opened her mouth without thinking. Her eyes opened wide as he shoved the folded head scarf between her teeth. He’d never done this to her before - not afterwards.
He tied the scarf firmly. Rose couldn’t say a word; couldn’t ask him why he was gagging her. She mumbled muffled protests until he smiled at her, then she didn’t care why.
She kicked weakly as she felt him loop soft rope round her ankle. She was too weak to give him any trouble, even if she’d wanted to. He gripped her ankles and slid her down the bed until the ropes at her wrists were tight, then he tied her ankles to the legs of the bed, disabling her completely. Rose lay there, widely spread-eagled, staring up at him.
“I’m going to leave you for a while.”
“Hunh!”
Clive smiled down at her. She knew he loved having her helpless and she’d never felt more weak and helpless in her life. She squealed softly when he fingered her pussy and became slippery-wet again, gasping nasally.
“Again?” he asked, smiling that wicked smile of his.
“Mmmm!” Rose nodded eagerly, quivering with anticipation. He grinned, dark eyes twinkling, satisfied that she could neither move nor shout.
He wanted her to stay still and quiet. Now she’d have to! He gave her a wicked grin.
She thought: he must have the nicest smile in the world.

He’d been fairly sure Rose would give him the number sequences when he’d first met her, but he hadn’t expected it would take him so long to make her do it!
Plain girls are all alike, he thought. Give them a chance, and they turn into real ravers in no time. Far too demanding, and too serious. But they’re stupid where sex is concerned - like so many women.
Rose had believed every word when he’d told her he was an electronic lock specialist, after he’d screwed her senseless.
“Wait until I get back,” he said. “Okay, Rose?”
Rose frowned, looking disappointed.
He dressed quickly. She looked more disappointed as he unlocked the door to leave, but she didn’t even try to struggle and she couldn’t complain.
“I have some business to do, at about eight a.m.” he said.
He went out, smiling, thinking: you’re going to have a long wait, Rosie.
Rose tried to calm down. Clive had never left her tied and gagged before! There must be some reason, but Rose couldn’t imagine what this might be. She knew that if she had to stay spread-eagled for too long she might pass out from excitement.
Perhaps Clive will keep me helpless, she thought, while he does all sorts of exciting things to me, when he gets back.

***

“Hmph! You look like a whore!” Anne Wilson muttered, staring at her reflection in the long mirror.
Her green eyes twinkled mischievously. She made a little moue, grinned and shook her head as if she didn’t believe what she was seeing. Her hair was loose, still tousled from bed. She hadn’t been awake very long.
She’d had the wickedly brief green underwear for some time, but she’d never worn it. Matching bra, panties and belt, with lots of lace. They contrasted well with her naturally pale skin and her striking red hair.
She’d bought the set, intending to wear it for the man in her life. She’d been completely carried away with this idea, which had seemed terrific at the time, but the affair had never developed. Now, the man was gone and all-but forgotten but the indecent lacy green underwear remained, still unworn.
There was no special man-friend in Anne’s life. Her senior executive position and her vivid business mentality seemed to discourage men for some reason - the men she may have been impressed by, anyhow. With her tall, lithe build, her long legs, and good figure, plenty of men were impressed - but not the type she fancied.
Sometimes she longed to meet a man who would sweep her off her feet and stop her from being so independent. He’d make all the decisions and all the arrangements. And he’d master her completely, of course. She wasn’t in the mood to be mastered at the moment and she still didn’t understand why being made helpless turned her on like mad, when she was in that crazy mood. But the fact was that it did! This didn’t bother her unduly now. She’d stopped worrying about it a long time ago. She knew that this macho man she sometimes longed for was a fantasy - but it would be nice to meet a man like that. There must be a few. The problem was: she never seemed to meet any of them.
Anne felt like wearing the whore outfit for no good reason. She was in an odd mood; feeling like doing something outrageous for a change. She smiled, wrinkling her cute freckled nose and felt slightly foolish wearing the sexy underwear. Getting ready to go to work, to an important business meeting at the Mogul office - and looking like a whore under her business suit. She tried to ease the brief panties higher, to cover her ginger pubic hair.
“Damn!” she muttered, as she found she couldn’t.
The lacy bra was the correct 36 C she normally wore, but if she’d needed any real support it would have been useless.
“Hmph! You look like a fifty-guinea whore,” she muttered softly, smiling.
She had no idea how much executive call-girls charged, but the thought appealed to her. No matter how foolish she felt, the lacy green outfit made her feel confident. She saw no reason to change into something more normal.
The meeting was an important one. Perhaps this was why she’d decided to wear the whore outfit? To bolster up her confidence. Or perhaps she was just in a silly mood?
Anne grinned, then her face became serious. This made her look determined and tended to spoil her natural beauty.
“You should be ashamed of yourself,” she muttered as she walked away from the mirror.
But she wasn’t a bit ashamed; she was oddly thrilled.
Perhaps this odd mood is because it’s Monday morning, she thought, and I’ve spent most of the weekend doing some urgent work at home.
She began to brush her hair, humming softly. She put her brush down and went to find a blouse to match her mood; one cut low enough to show herself off, for a change.
A random thought struck her. Perhaps I should phone in and take the day off?
But the meeting was too important! She couldn’t afford to miss it.


Author Information

an author who is heavily into spanking stories. First class CP writing.

 

Publisher Information

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