Force Fantasies - Bedside Reading

Real-Life Roleplay:
Abducted Lady Executive
From Eroticus

 

Roleplaying can add spice and delight to any relationship. My lovely bride Athena and I had our first force-fantasy experience about three years ago. It was one of those delicious nights when we’re able to farm out both our dear children, thus allowing ourselves full run of our spacious three bedroom apartment palace.

We kept the premise simple: Athena was a female executive, arrogant and coldly beautiful, working late in her office -- alone. I was a disgruntled employee, passed over for promotion one too many times, and determined to exact my own form of vengeance on my cruel, sexy boss.

Athena was wearing the red dress she’d had on at dinner -- which is where we conceived our plan over candlelight and chianti in the first place. I must say, she looked stunning, her voluptuous curves shown to exquisite perfection in a silky little number with plunging neckline and above the knee hemline. Red pumps and matching red silk bra and panties were the perfect finishing touch.

(Okay, so it wouldn’t meet the dress code at your office or mine, but, hey, that’s what fantasies are for!)

For my own role as abductor, I changed into jeans and a hooded sweatshirt. For good measure, I added a ski mask as well. Rifling through our son’s toy box, I came up with a plastic gun and handcuffs, which I tucked into my belt. From the tool kit in the laundry room I found some rope, tape and other suitable binding material which might come in handy later.

(Note: There are actually much better materials out there which are available for such games, but we were somewhat ignorant at the time.)

At any rate, as I approached the dimly lit living room -- which for purposes of our story was Athena’s office -- my heart was pounding. Could I go through with an abduction, even in play? The most exciting part was that she had no idea how I would actually carry it out. Would I talk first? Jump her, or what?

I felt instant tightness in the crotch of my old jeans the second I saw her innocently typing on the computer, her long hair done up on top of her head with cool efficiency, her deep blue eyes intensely concentrating as she caught up on some email, all the while pretending to be doing her evil female executive-type work.

Being a melodramatic soul at heart, I decided on a sneak attack. Getting down on all fours, I crawled into the room, managing to stay out of sight. Thanks to the loudly clacking keyboard, I was standing less than a foot behind her, and she still had no idea I was there. Hey, maybe I was cut out for the dark side after all! After standing there like an idiot for several minutes working up my courage, I finally made my move. I must say, her surprise was genuine as I sprung out at her, putting the toy gun to her head and clamping my hand over her mouth.

As she told me later, she’d expected me to come out and talk before we started -- which meant that the racing of her pulse and the heaving of her chest was all too real.

“Make one move, bitch, and I’ll blow your head off!” I growled, my voice low and menacing. Her breathing was rapid, her eyes were so big. She was so helpless, I couldn't resist grasping one of her full breasts. It was wonderful -- as if I’d never touched them before. Next I let her hair down, kissing her hotly on her neck. I was like a kid in a candy shop!

“Now we’ll see who’s the boss,” I sneered, securing her hands behind her back with the handcuffs. She was giving me such a look as I brought her to her feet, that I couldn’t resist nuzzling her ear and caressing her breasts in earnest. Her nipples were hard. I could smell her arousal down below, too.

Bingo! We were onto something with this role play, and I couldn’t wait to take it to the next step.

After gagging her and tying a scarf over her eyes for a blindfold, I told her we were going to my “car” which for our purposes was the living room couch. Lying her on her side and covering her with an afghan, I sat down beside her and made some car noises, like I was driving. The whole time, I was ready to explode, thinking how I'd put her there, under my power, and how I’d lifted up the hem of her skirt and felt the moistness between her legs before covering her over. I “drove” for five minutes or so, enough for her to get the feel of being taken somewhere, against her will.

As I think about it now, maybe I could have made her go longer than that to build up the psychological effects of kidnap -- but how could I hold off our fun that long?

Anyway, as I opened the “trunk” I paused to run my hand up and down her thighs, for which I was rewarded with a series of indignant little moans. Letting my eyes wander down those lovely stocking covered legs, I decided I wanted those shoes off her next, and hey, since I was the kidnapper, that’s exactly what I got.

“We go the rest of the way on foot,” I explained, pulling her roughly to her feet. “We’re miles from nowhere. They’ll never find you out here.”

Our destination -- and mind you I was making this up as I went along -- was a cabin in the woods. The cabin’s bedroom (coincidentally enough) doubled as our bedroom at the end of the hall, which made things real convenient. Locking the bedroom door behind me, I put her down on the bed.

What a sight she was, in her stockinged feet, squirming ineffectually on the bed, trying to get up. You have no idea how much I love my little actress! All at once she was showing fear, excitement, terror, you name it.

It was while I was looking at her, watching her struggling to get to a sitting position, her dress riding up her thighs, her hair disheveled, her hands bound in the cuffs, that I had a brainstorm. A stroke of genius, if you will.

My idea was this: Athena was so luscious, so utterly ravishable, why should I possess her just once, in the guise of only one character? Why not take on multiple personalities, multiplying thereby our mutual pleasure?

“Wait till the others get here,” I said mischievously, slapping her pert buttocks. “then you’ll get yours.”

Her body tensed in response to my hand -- and to my words. Others? I could imagine what was humming through that mind of hers. Athena wanted this as much as I did.

“God -- you’re a hot piece,” I crooned, running my hands over her, lewdly, lasciviously, without any of the respect and tenderness I invariably show in standard lovemaking. “The Boss told me not to touch you. But maybe I should get myself a little piece now. They’ll never know the difference. Plenty to go around, right?”

Turning her over like the pure sex object I intended to make of her, I went for her breasts, kneading them roughly. Indignantly, she tried to wriggle free, which only encouraged me to put her in her place. And right now, that place was underneath me, serving my pleasure as a willing vessel.

Muffled cries came from her as I shoved my hip between her legs, parting them.

Wow! She was really fighting me -- meeting my force with equal and opposite reaction, like sexual isometrics, or a ballet of combat. Lucky for both of us, she was totally wet, which meant I was able to paw open my pants, yank down both my underwear and hers and slide right in.

Not that she made it easy. All’s fair, after all, in love play.

A couple of times, she managed to dislodge me, which gave me the pleasure of reentry. The whole time I was whispering degrading things in her ear -- totally unlike anything I would ever dream of saying to my lover, my best friend.

In this context, however, it was just what we both needed to go orbital. Feigning ultimate degradation, she thrust her head away and to the side as I possessed her. Oh, the ecstasy! I was seconds away from what I knew would be one of the best orgasms of our married life; I can’t begin to describe how badly I wanted to come inside my love right then. But the night was young, and I had many more villains to be before I could call it a night. At the crucial point, therefore, I stiffened, pretending to hear a car.

“Damn,” I muttered, pulling out abruptly. “The Boss is here.” Leaning in close, I warned her not to say a word about what I'd been doing. After smoothing her dress, and hiding her panties, I put her back on her side and left the room.

Talk about feeling powerful! As much as I’d hated to stop, let me tell you about a little thing called delayed gratification: i.e., knowing you have a gorgeous woman under your sexual control, who will do nothing but wait for you to come back and finish the job, whether it’s after ten seconds or ten hours.

As for my sweetie, it was dark and she was blindfolded, and you can guess what it was like, being left alone, handcuffed, totally aroused, totally at your lover’s mercy.

In the hallway I staged a dialogue between Kidnapper One (our original character) and the Boss, a mysterious and threatening figure who had first dibs on the lovely captive.

For Athena’s benefit, I described her charms, how hot she was, and how I hadn’t laid a hand on the “little slut.”

It was the Boss who entered the room next, and as Athena told me later, my voice and everything about me was so different, it was almost like adultery. She told me it even felt different when I was inside her!

What was the Boss like? Well, if Kidnapper One was a horny, but inept lackey, the Boss was a true sadist. For him sex was a definite weapon. He made no bones about what he would have from her, and if she fought, all the better.

“There’s a MAN in the room now,” he swaggered, pointing the gun at her, rubbing it over her cheeks. “Give me any trouble, and you’ll be sorry.”

Releasing her hands -- because he had no need to bind her to dominate her -- the Boss had Athena strip off her dress. The gag was removed, too, and the Boss had a definite use in mind for her lovely mouth with its red, pouty lips.

Tucking the gun in his belt, he/(I) went in for the kill -- sexual kill that is.

My Athena was more than a match, however. Showing a distinct gift for improvisation, she said the one thing that would get my attention. “The other man,” she said, in a fierce half-whisper, “he -- he tried to ravish me.”

“Is that right?” I sneered. “We’ll see about that.” She knew I couldn’t resist! I was off again, for another imaginary argument, this time culminating in “gunfire.”

(In case you're wondering, I made the gun noises myself, once again showing off my astounding range of sound effects.)

The Boss was victorious, of course, and he came back ready for action. And what action it was! While the First Kidnapper had just wanted to get his rocks off, the Boss wanted her to know at every step what he was doing, and what a slut she was. Holding her down, he dared her to fight him.

She did not. Parting her legs imperiously, I plunged deep, enjoying her panic and fear and the raw animal power of forcing her submission. Sparks flew -- the tension was exquisite as she began to respond, against her will (Wink, wink!).

To an observer, it might have looked real -- sort of like pro wrestling. But underneath, of course, we were moving with the unspoken timing of paired figure skaters. Let’s face it folks -- force fantasies are not for the faint-hearted nor are they suitable for casual sex -- you’ve got to KNOW your partner, and yourself.

Once again, I wanted nothing more than to explode inside my beloved, but I had to hold back for the next character. This guy was the dumbest yet, with a real mouth on him. Being low man, he had to make do with “sloppy seconds.” Even so, he didn’t get to finish the job either.

There was one more attacker to come, and this was to be my piece d’resistance; The ultimate surprise, the one thing Athena would not expect.

An  ALLY. The idea came to me, believe it or not, in my Boss mode, as I was forcing myself on her with all the simulated brutality I could manage. Feeling her underneath me, sensing her mock distress, I was suddenly overcome with a powerful desire to protect Athena and cherish her, even as I was overwhelming and degrading her.

These feelings culminated in the fourth guy, who instead of laying hands on her, whispered in her ear that he was an undercover cop named Joe, and that he was going to get her out of there. Joe was every bit as tender and loving as the others had been brutal. He brought her a towel to help clean her, he covered her with a blanket, he soothed her, he apologized for not being able to stop the others, he even asked her name.

She said she was “Christine,” and she sounded so sweet, so vulnerable, I could have fallen in love with her at that moment if I didn’t already love her madly. “Christine,” as it turned out, was only a corporate bitch on the surface. Underneath, she was a gentle, wounded young woman who just wanted to go home.

I told her we had to wait till dawn when a rescue team was coming, and that I’d stay with her, but first I’d have to go back and mollify the others. “Do you trust me?” I asked.

After a second’s hesitation, she whispered “yes,” and that one word made my heart swell like nothing I’ve ever known. Not to mention the lump in my throat. She really did love me!

Leaving the room now, I gave Athena some time to lie there in the crux of this new uncertainty, on the razor’s edge of hope and fear. Would Joe be back, or The Boss?

I made up more muffled conversation, produced some odd noises and bangs, but nothing which would give her a clear sense of what was going on. It was all choreographed, so that when I opened the door, she would not know who I was: Good or Evil. When I touched her it was like an electric shock.

“It’s okay,” I told her, still in my Joe character. The relief was palpable all over her body. What an actress! What a lover!

Staying the perfect gentleman, I told her that I would sleep on the floor while we waited, because I didn’t want to compromise her anymore by putting her in proximity to a man. As I lay below her, she kept asking about the Boss and the others. In true romance hero fashion, I assured her I'd taken care of them, and she was safe.

After a few minutes in the dark, she called my name. “Joe?”

“Yea?”

“Will you hold me? I’m -- I’m just so scared.”

(That’s my baby! Did I tell you she was terrific, or what?!)

“Okay,” I agreed. I made a point of wincing just a bit as I sat on the edge of the bed. She picked right up on what I was doing. “Are you hurt, Joe?”

“Just a little knife wound.”

“Can I see it?”

“Yea.” I removed my shirt, and we pretended to find the wound and dress it. All the while, we were getting to know each other, rattling off made up backgrounds. We settled down at last, her head on my chest, feeling safe and secure.

Pretty soon, the inevitable happened: Mad explosive love making, fear and desire, adrenaline packed captor/captive bonding, leading to incredible, nearly instantaneous orgasms for both of us.

I’ll tell you what -- by the time we subsided in each other’s arms, I would have bet any amount of money we really were lost somewhere in the woods, in a cabin. When we fell asleep for real, I was Joe and she was Christine, and I was contemplating a whole new life with my love.

Who knew so much could come out of such a simple idea -- a little role playing, a few childish props, and a lot of love and imagination. The sheer range of emotions we got to express with each other -- from the rawest, most primal of urges to the most exquisite of tender feelings -- was indescribable!

And, oh, the release! It saddens me to think how bound all of us are in our daily roles, bound by society’s expectations, expectations that we be good boys and girls, asexual, sterile, even in the bedroom. How ironic to think it’s the Vanillas who really live in bondage and domination, while we who play rough are the true inheritors of the free human spirit.

So, if you haven’t tried force fantasies, what are you waiting for? The possibilities and variations are endless, as endless as our dreams, as endless as the love between two people can be. So don’t be timid, don’t be afraid. Discover the beast in yourself, the victim, the animal, the creature of your darkest lust -- because in the hands of a trusted lover, all these impulses will be guided to heavenly ends.

And if you have tried it, well then, I'm preaching to the choir. aren’t I? So stop reading, and go do something about it!

Bon appetit, boys and girls!

-- Eroticus

 

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