Caught & Captured (M/F)

[emily-a]

I glanced around quickly to be sure the sound of my breaking the second-story window hadn´t attracted unwanted attention. Mostly a reflex, really. The house and the garden were in darkness, everything was quiet and I already knew no one was going to be there tonight.

My hand reached through the broken glass and I opened the window from the inside. I started to climb through, slipped and almost fell but managed to hang on by my hands. After cursing myself quietly, I was finally able to pull myself up and through the window so I came tumbling onto the floor inside.

Not the most glamorous entrance, but at least I was in.

I sat up and quickly looked around at the luxuriously furnished and richly appointed room. Oriental vases, fancy ivory carvings, a sculpture or two that looked like the work of Giacometti. I got up and walked over to the wall covered with paintings by important artists like... well, to be totally honest, I did not really know who the artists were. Was that a William Turner? The next one looked like Monet. A Monet is frighteningly expensive and people who can afford to live in places like this would never waste money on art unless it was frighteningly expensive, so yes, it definitely could have been a Monet.

But I had to tear myself away from these fascinating art explorations. You see, I wasn´t an art critic. I was a master thief and I had some serious thieving to do.

I started taking down the paintings from the wall until I found the safe that was hidden behind one of them. The safe, like everything else here, looked expensive and fancy enough. Just not expensive and fancy enough to be safe enough from a master thief like myself. I tested the dial. What I had to do now was to--

Holy mackerel! That diamond necklace over there had to be worth a fortune!

I was just going to have a little look-see at it. What was the harm? I had all night to crack the safe. I picked up the necklace and held it in my hand. Okay, so it wasn´t what I´d come for and it was a little bit unprofessional to get distracted from the real job, time pressure or not. But it was also pretty tempting and so I did what I always do when faced with a temptation. I gave in to it and decided to try the necklace on.

I walked up to a mirror. The room was pretty dark and I had to step close to it to be able to admire myself with the no doubt very expensive necklace around my neck. It looked really good on me, if I do say so myself, even if it was rather incongruous with my standard-issue black trousers and sweater burglar outfit.

I pulled off my black gloves. I wanted to feel it in my hand. I no longer worried about leaving fingerprints because, yes, I had already decided to take it with me. I had been specifically instructed not to steal anything but the contents of the safe, but it wasn´t like I was planning to try to sell it or anything else that might get me caught. I´d just keep it to myself and maybe wear it some day on some special occasion, like the Nobel Prize Award Ceremony. True, the chances of my winning a Nobel Prize were only about 50 percent better than Britney Spears´ chances, but the necklace was coming with me in any--

The lights came on and I spun around and there he stood, in the doorway, with a pistol aimed right at me.

So… total deer in headlights moment. I looked toward the window I had come in through, which offered the only escape other than the door the man was now blocking. No way could I get there fast enough.

“I´m afraid you haven´t got a hope, young lady,” he said, also glancing toward the window and agreeing with my own conclusion. “If I were you, I would instead opt for placing my hands behind my head.”

I took his advice and we stood there looking at each other a moment.

John Matheson, Jr. The man with the gun. The man with pretty much everything, in fact.

I´d only seen him in photos until now. He looked really handsome in real life too. Hard to believe he was still single. I knew he was because I´d read it while boning up for this job. America´s most eligible
bachelor, apparently.

Perhaps I should try getting out of this fix by proposing to him…

He took his time sizing me up. I felt awkward under his stare as well as by the silence it produced. I looked around the sumptuous room.

“I do appreciate your many fine objects d´art,” I complimented. “It´s quite the impressive collection you have here.”

“Quite, quite, let´s stick to essentials, shall we?” he said with a hint of amusement. “I think the thought that imposes itself here is, what exactly are you doing in my home, miss?”

“Well, it´s all a little bit embarrassing actually…” I began, partly because this was true and partly in order to stall for time so I could think up some explanation that wasn´t true at all.

“I can imagine,” he said as he moved into the room, keeping the gun aimed at me and throwing a glance in the direction of the now exposed wall safe. He looked back at me and moved closer. “For what it´s worth, though, I think that thing looks really great on you.” He was referring to the necklace around my neck. “It really becomes you.”

“Thanks,” I said appreciatively. “It´s quite stunning. It must have been expensive.”

“It wasn´t cheap,” he confirmed. “Think I could have it back, perhaps? I´m rather fond of it myself, you see.”

“Yes, of course,” I said, taking one hand down so I could take it off. “I was just, you know... borrowing it for a sec.”

“Of course.”

“Is it, like, a gift for a special someone?” I asked. “A girlfriend, perhaps? Because I sure know I´d get all weak and rubbery at the knees and be all ready to take a walk down the aisle if a” – I looked up at him with a sweet smile – “stylish, fashionable, handsome man was to give me something like this.”

“Oh yeah?” he said, returning my smile. “Well, I´ll be sure to remember that in case I would, you know, happen to fall in love with you at some future point in time.”

“Great!” I said and laid the necklace on the palm of the hand he extended toward me. He closed his fingers around it and took a few steps back. He made an upward gesture with the gun.

“Sorry,” I said and again moved my hands to the back of my head.

Keeping his gun at me, he put the necklace back on the display bust where I´d found it. I allowed a brief look of concern to cross my face as he looked away for a moment.

He turned to face me again and came closer. “Would you hand me your sweater, please?” I must have looked a bit reluctant, because he added, “If you can borrow from me, I should get to borrow something from you, right?”

I let out a sigh, then took my hands down so I could reluctantly unzip my zip-up sweater, feeling uncomfortable under his stare. I took it off and held it out to him. He seized it from my hand and this time I remembered to put my hands back behind my head without being told.

I watched his hands search through my sweater. I wondered what it was he thought he might find. Was he just checking to see if it was his size? Either way, he tossed the sweater to the floor when the examination was finished.

“I´m afraid I will need to frisk you,” he said.

“Is that really necessary?” I asked.

“Yes, I believe so.” He indicated my bra and my pants with his pistol. “Unless you´d prefer to continue with the strip search?”

“Wouldn´t that be like some kind of sexual harassment crime?”

“Yes, but I´m rich so I´m above the law.”

“What about public opinion?”

“I think I´d be the toast of the town.”

“You do?”

“The cat burglar, caught and captured! Read all about it!” he said in imitation of a newspaper boy.

“Okay,” I said. “Let´s do it the frisky kind of way.”

He did a little “turn around”-gesture with his finger and I turned away from him. He came up behind me, kicked my feet apart, and his hands started patting me down so thoroughly even my bare-skinned arms, not to mention my bra, got the patdown treaty and I let out a grunt of disgruntled protest. The lout even patted down my crotch in the same excessive manner.

“Oh, for crying out loud!”

“Sorry, but I saw this movie where a female agent had a weapon hidden inside her—” he stopped in mid-sentence, then rephrased. “Well, inside her.”

“Gee, that sounds like a great fucking movie,” I said irritably. “Ingmar Bergman, was it?”

“No, it was some other guy.”

Finally satisfied I hadn´t concealed anything, he stepped back and I turned again to face him, hands still behind my head.

“Now, I don´t believe we´ve met before,” he said. “I´m sure you already know my name, but what´s yours?”

“It´s… Natasja,” I said.

“And what´s your last name, Natasja?”

“I´d actually prefer not to say, if that´s all right with you.” I felt a little bit of reluctance here might give my fake name more credibility. Also, I was still a bit annoyed by the intimate patdown.

“Yes, it´s all right,” he said. “I don´t believe your name´s Natasja anyway.”

So much for that brilliant plan. “Really? How come?”

“Perhaps it´s more appropriate that I ask the questions here. Maybe you can wait your turn till you get the drop on me. Not that anyone´s ever gotten the drop on me so far.”

“I´ll be sure to be the first,” I said.

“I´ll be sure to be on my guard,” he said. “After all, you must be really good. I paid quite a bit of money for the security system around here and I was assured it was supposed to be really difficult to get past.”

“Really?” I said, sounding surprised. “No offense, but it didn´t seem that difficult at all. Maybe you should ask for your money back.” Pause. “Then again, I am really good. Maybe you´d like to hire me for my next job?”

He made a show of considering this for a short moment. “Nah, I don´t think so,” he said, apparently deciding against it. “After all, I did catch you, didn´t I? I mean, if you got caught, how good can you be?”

“True, but I have a feeling you knew I was coming,” I said by way of excuse. “It feels like I sort of walked into a trap here.”

“True, but I have a feeling you knew how to get past the security system,” he countered. “It feels like someone sort of sold me out.”

Since this happened to be true and, more importantly, because I couldn´t think of anything really cool to say, I said, “I´m sorry you feel that way.”

“It was that Mary at my office, wasn´t it?” he said. “I never trusted her, and she could have found out for you. If you bribed her, promised her a piece of the action. That´s what happened, isn´t it? I´m sure the little traitor would bite if she got the offer.”

I had a sneaking suspicion he already knew of Mary´s betrayal and had one way or another (she´d seemed like a pretty tough girl) gotten her to confess everything. It would explain how he´d known I was coming.

“I guess it must have been Mary, then,” I said. “Mystery solved.”

“I´m also curious as to who you work for?” he continued.

“Curiosity can be dangerous,” I pointed out. “Remember what happened to the cat.”

“Says the curious cat burglar who got caught and will get bound.”

I nodded in the direction of the wall safe. “Since you already know what I came to steal, you already know I can´t tell you who I work for.”

“Fair enough,” he said. “I suppose I already know you can´t talk. The same way you already know I will make you talk anyway.”

He walked over to a cupboard, which was a little bit disconcerting since he presumably wouldn´t put our conversation on pause in order to walk over to a cupboard unless it was his intention to get something useful from said cupboard.

He looked around inside it and took out a glass bottle of something and then a small piece of cloth. Because he kept his gun aimed in my direction the whole time, I decided in favor of continuing to hold my hands behind my head and against attempting any heroic escapes.

He put the cloth down on a table, turned the bottle upside down and poured some of the liquid onto it. That done, he picked the cloth up and came toward me. He held the gun in one hand and held out the one with the piece of cloth toward me. I quietly accepted the damp piece of fabric.

He took two or three steps back again and I lowered my other hand as well as I stood studying the cloth now in my own hand. Just looking at it made me feel a little weaker, like it was already having an effect.

“Don´t worry,” he said. “It´s perfectly safe, I assure you. It´s a compound mixed up by my own chemists. It´s been tested on both animal and human subjects. Perfectly harmless.”

“Still, I could have an allergic reaction…” I suggested lamely.

“Come on, don´t be a sore loser now,” he said. “I think what you did was really gutsy, and I always respect a woman willing to play a high-stakes game of risk and reward. I´m more of a silver spoon person myself so I´ve never had to steal or do anything else to risk trading my freedom for a pair of handcuffs. I admire those of you willing to take that risk, even if I find it annoying when you try to steal from me personally. But you knew from the start the price for losing this cat-and-mouse game would mean captivity for you and my prize for winning would be the ownership of you.”

“You get to own me?”

“You didn´t know that?”

Downcast: “No.” Then, with a hopeful smile: “But we live and learn, right?”

“No pleading of ignorance now. I´m sure you knew.”

I sighed despondently. “I guess. It´s just that I´ve never lost before and now that I have… Well, if I ever do get the drop on you and we see a switching of roles here, believe me, you wouldn´t like it nearly as much.”

“I will take your word for it and make sure I keep winning.”

Again, I looked at the piece of cloth. “So what happens when I wake up again?”

“Aren´t you curious to find out?”

“No, not really.”

“It´ll be a surprise.”

“You know, I´ve never really much liked surprises myself,” I began, sounding as if this just happened to be a subject of great fascination to me. “I mean, ever since I was a kid, even with my birthday coming up, the surprise-factor, the not knowing, it always made me feel as though I were--"

He looked somehow both bored and amused at the same time. “Would you please quit stalling and just start sniffing now, missy? I´m afraid I don´t have all night, you know.”

“Patience is a virtue,” I said unhappily, mostly to myself.

“I could put the handcuffs on you and do it to you myself.”

Still, I hesitated, unhappy and reluctant to accept my fate. Fine, I guess I was a sore loser, so tie me up and spank me.

“Okay, okay, so there will be some restriction of movement,” he revealed, apparently to ease my concerns. “Some muffling of talk until you´re ready to sing and maybe some baring of skin. Standard stuff like that and all of it entirely in proportion to the amount of resistance you decide to put up. Nothing very surprising at all. Really, I promise. Okay?”

Quietly: “Swell.”

I reluctantly held the cloth to my nose and inhaled. A long silent moment followed as we both just stood there looking at each other; me with a damp piece of cloth held to my nose, he with a gun aimed in my direction.

All in all, I would have preferred to be the one with the gun and the handcuffs.

Once the scent of whatever he´d given me began filling my head, I started losing strength fast. I had just enough waking time left to see him moving toward me as my vision got blurry and just enough consciousness left in me to feel him catch me in his arms as I started falling.

Which was kind of a gentlemanly thing for him to do.



It was pitch dark outside the windows. Apparently, it had started raining too. I could hear the soft patter against the windowpane as I looked around and started assessing the situation I now found myself in.

Okay. I was in a bedroom. I was lying on my back on a four-poster bed. I was unable to ascertain where my clothes might have gone to, but I was highly conscious of the fact that I was no longer wearing them. The fact that I couldn´t close my mouth had informed me that I had fallen victim to a ball gag and some self-pitying whimpering at the hopelessness of my situation confirmed the obvious fact that I wouldn´t be able to speak a word until someone decided I should be permitted to. I further established that my hands had been tied together and to the headboard above my head and that he had tied the knots just right. Not so tight as to affect blood circulation, but secure enough to prevent any possibility of escape.

Another problem was that I could no more move my legs than I could my arms. Even less, in fact. This was owing to the fact that my legs had been frogtied and a rope tied around my knee, then pulled taut under the bed and up again on the other side and tied around that knee as well so that my legs were spread about as wide as it was possible for someone´s legs to be, and my private part were just about as exposed as it was possible for a girl´s private parts to be.

Having thus assessed my situation, I was forced to conclude that this operation had not gone according to plan.

The lights were on and I looked around at the rather opulent bedroom. There were several objects in here too that would definitely be worth stealing, I noticed, ever the burglar. If only I weren´t tied up in a totally humiliating way. Not that being tied up in a somewhat less humiliating way would have helped me steal anything, but I still would have preferred it.

I struggled against my restraints some more. I turned my head so I could look up at my tied hands and tried to wiggle them free. No dice. I put my head back down on the pillow and looked up at the ceiling.

Where had he gone? Was he still in the house? And would I ever manage to get out of this mess? Obviously not with a shred of dignity intact, but perhaps in some other kind of way?

I glanced at the bedside table next to my head. On top of it I noticed a few things that appeared to be… toys. Toys of a rather sexual nature, that is.

I groaned as I lay my head back on the pillow. Great. Just fucking great.

Oh, well, I always knew this job came with certain risks.

Nothing happened for a long while. For want of anything better to do, I struggled vainly against the ropes once more.

I gave another whimpering sound through my ball gag, partly because lying there and being unable to do anything at all was frustrating and partly just to break the total silence. I mean, who in the 21st century can handle total silence for more than two seconds?

I was about to start pondering this very important question when my thoughts were interrupted by a small sound that made me instantly raise my head, boredom suddenly replaced by alarm.

The door had opened and he was standing there in the doorway. “I´m glad you´re finally awake,” he said with a gentle smile. He held up a small glass bottle in his hand. “I was starting to think I would have to use the smelling salts.” He put his hand with the little bottle back in his trouser pocket. “So I take it we enjoyed our beauty sleep, then?”

He looked at me for a moment like he was actually expecting an answer. I made a frustrated mmmph sound through my gag, as if I were actually attempting to answer, and pulled a little against the ropes.

“I´ll take that as a yes,” he said and I watched helplessly from my position on the bed as he came into the room.

He glanced at me and our eyes met as he walked past the lower end of the bed, crossing to the other side. At least I hoped he was looking mostly at my eyes.

He stopped next to the bed and stood there looking down at me with a friendly smile, a twinkle in his eyes and his hands in his pockets.

It looked like he was quietly admiring his handiwork: me, inescapably tied up for his full viewing pleasure.

I found myself instinctively doing some more struggling against the ropes. At least the velvet ropes felt soft against the skin, but struggle all I want, they would keep me in place on that bed.

I gave up and looked back up at him.

Again, there was no denying it. He was a very handsome man. Urbane, Ivy League-educated, impeccably dressed, rich as hell. Most eligible bachelor, indeed.

I knew of course that he must have seen me in this humiliating position when he first put me in this humiliating position, but it was still a very humiliating position to be in. I gave a plaintive little whimper through my ball gag.

“Does that mean you´d like to talk again?” he asked in response to my sound, hands still in his pockets.

I nodded my head “yes”, but he ignored this and said, “If the answer is yes, would you please let me know by moving your hips up and down for me like a you-know-what?”

I gave another little whimper. I looked up at him with pleading eyes but this time he did not return my gaze because he was now looking at another part of my anatomy.

I rolled my eyes, burning with humiliation. I hesitated a moment. Then answered by grinding my hips for him as noticeably as the tight restraints permitted.

“Yes, I agree,” he said. “We should talk some more.” He turned his attention back to my face. Now I looked away from him, slightly embarrassed by the way he´d made me to act.

“Let me help you,” he said. He reached down and grabbed my head and turned it so I was facing him again. He unbuckled the straps behind my head and lifted the rubber ball out of my mouth. He put it next to the vibrator and the other alarming objects on the nightstand.

I looked up at him, and somewhat embarrassingly found myself at a loss for anything at all to say now that I finally was able to speak. He didn´t help out by saying anything either.

Instead, I looked down at my painfully naked body. Following my gaze, so did he.

“Well, this is also a little embarrassing, to you tell the truth,” I admitted.

“I can imagine,” he said. “For what it´s worth though, you look really good like this, too. Lying helpless with your pussy on public display really becomes you.”

“Gee, thanks,” I said, rolling my eyes. “That´s very… flattering.”

“You know, I could shave your pubic area for you, if you´d like,” he said helpfully. “I think you´d probably look even cuter that way.”

“Thanks, but that really isn´t necessary,” I assured him. “You´ve done far too much already.”

“Suit yourself,” he said with a shrug of the shoulders. He sat down on the edge of the bed and turned his attention back to my face again.

“Okay, so am I right in assuming you´re still determined to put up a really heroic refusal to tell me who you work for?” he said, helpfully brushing some hair from my face.

“Not revealing who I´m being paid by is part of the job I´m being paid for,” I explained. “You already know that.”

“Are you always this loyal to your employers?” he asked.

“Infallibly.”

He threw a glance down my naked body. “Even when you´re someone´s disrobed and tied-up plaything?”

“So it would seem.”

I felt him place his hand on my belly. “Well, I can´t fault you for loyalty, can I?”

“Guess not. Maybe you’ve changed your mind about hiring me, even?”

“No, not quite there yet,” he said in a swift dismissal. “So, the long and the short of it is that you´ll have to put up your valiant display of non-cooperation and I´ll have to break you and only then can you allow yourself to share you secrets with me?”

“Something like that.”

“Sure, we can play it that way, if you like. You´re all tied up and I´m at loose ends, so why not? I was only fibbing before, you know. I do have all night and patience really is a virtue.”

“There is another possibility here,” I pointed out.

“Oh?”

“You could save yourself the trouble and embarrassment of trying in vain and just untie me now and give me back, you know, my panties and other personal belongings.”

He seemed to consider my counter-proposal for a moment, his fingers absently stroking my pubic hair like he wasn´t aware of his own action. Then he shook his head. “No. No, I definitely prefer doing it the way I suggested. You know, where I win and you lose.” He smiled gently and brushed another strand of hair from my face.” I´m actually quite curious as to what my captured cat burglar looks like when she´s forced to cum like a little you-know-what. I have this feeling you´ll probably look really cute.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!!

Since I couldn´t think of anything cooler to say than that, I instead calmly turned my head to look at the vibrator and kindred ominous-looking objects sitting on the bedside table.

“You mean that stuff´s supposed to make me talk?” I asked.

“Pretty much,” he confirmed, nodding his head.

I looked back at him with a confident, challenging smile. “And you actually think that´s gonna work?” I sounded like I found the idea ridiculous to the point of being comical.

I watched his composure fall from him and now it was he who seemed for a moment at a loss for anything to say. He glanced at the toys a little uncertainly. Then back at me again, as if unsure what to say. I did my best to give him my amused and confident tough-girl look.

Unfortunately, I couldn´t help letting a moan escape me at this moment because his hand had during our conversation casually moved down between my legs and he was gently rubbing my clit just the right way.

In response to the sound I made, he dropped his feigned loss of composure and his soft, confident smile returned. “Yes,” he said calmly, nodding his head. “Yes, I do. In fact, I believe you will be very easy to break.”

I couldn´t help letting out another frustrated moan, from the touching and from the humiliating words. And from the way he kept looking at me. Calmly and gently and yet like the cat looking at the mouse.

He removed his hand from my private parts, apparently getting ready to move on to the next phase of the interrogation.

For want of any other theoretical possibility of escape, I struggled as hard as I could against the ropes holding my hands, hoping against hope it wouldn´t be quite as pointless as before. Alas, I again failed to pull the headboard off the bed and use it to knock him unconscious and run off into the night, or whatever it was I was hoping to do.

I lay still, looking up at him and unable to hide the feeling of utter defeat as he looked at me with a small, amused smile. I found myself again pulling hopelessly against the ropes for a short moment, like a silly child refusing to accept reality.

I gave up and lay still once more. The room was completely silent. I couldn´t think of anything at all to say. It seemed the jig really was up.

“I guess we´ll soon find out,” I sighed in defeat.

“I guess so,” he nodded in agreement and, wasting no more time, reached across me to grab the ball gag from the nightstand and then held the rubber ball so I could feel it touching my lips. He looked at me patiently, waiting for my compliance.

I rolled my eyes and opened my mouth to let him push the ball into it. He grabbed my head and lifted it up off the pillow so he could buckle the straps together behind my head while I let out a disapproving “mmngngnmph.” He let go and me and my head and fell back onto the pillow again.

I watched helplessly as he reached across me to the bedside table on the other side and picked up a pair of nipple clamps. I moaned in helpless protest at the sight of them and then even more as he tenderly applied them to my nipples.

Then came the vibrator and its buzzing. Then came the squirming and grinding and increasing moaning. And then came… actually, I didn´t.

He pulled the vibrator away from me just before I could, leaving me to make a bunch of noise out of frustration instead.

He waited patiently for me to recover, my breathing and highly restrained, frustrated movements the only sound in the room. And then he started up the vibrator and again introduced it to my nether regions.

I looked up at him, squirming and pleading with my eyes as he just sat there looking down at my sweaty face while keeping the vibrator mercilessly in place, like this was a job that had to be done and he was the man to do it.

And once again it had to be said that he was a very handsome man indeed. Sexy, even. He had beautiful eyes too, I noticed. He was so well-dressed, so confident. So in control. I could feel my orgasm coming fast…

And once again he seemed to know exactly the right moment to take the vibrator away to leave me noisy with humiliating frustration instead.

He didn´t bother asking if I was ready to spill my guts yet. His fingers just idly played with the chain on my nipple clamps while he waited patiently for me to calm down and start breathing normally again. And then he repeated the whole thing once more.

“Fuck fuck fuck!!” – which came out like “Mmmgnngnnggmg!!”

When at last he did take the gag out of my mouth, the words poured out of me so fast I´m impressed he was able to make out what I was saying.

He sat and listened and didn´t even need to ask any questions and I didn´t really care what might happen to Mary at his office (although, having become his captive myself, I now had some notion of what might be in store for miss Mary) or about what might happen to my employers or how they would feel about my betraying them.

I told him fucking everything.

“That wasn´t so hard now, was it?” he said and gave me a pat on the head. “You could have just told me right away, you know? But that´s okay.” His fingers picked up the rubber ball dangling around my neck. “I didn´t mind doing it the way you preferred, with you tied and vibed and moaning like a you-know-what. Like I predicted, it wasn´t even difficult to get you talking.”

I opened my mouth and he put the ball back in. “I bet I was right about you looking really cute when you´re forced to cum too,” he said, looking for the first time a little playful and mischievous. He studied my face a little dreamily, like he was already visualizing it.

“I guess I´ll soon find out,” he said with a shrug and turned away. I watched him turn the vibrator back on and move it back down between my frogtied legs and at least this time I could take some comfort in knowing he wouldn´t be so mean as to take it away before the job was finished.

I was aware that he was using his free hand to get out his phone and apparently that he apparently used it to call the cops because I could hear him say something about having a caught a burglar and could they please come pick her up – but I was too busy making gag-noise and, he confirmed after, “looking really cute” to much care at the moment.

After, I found myself wondering, if I agreed to look that way for him more times, would he consider not pressing charges? Any port in a storm, you know? I mean, who would ever want to go to prison? Would he even ungag me before the cops arrived? Perhaps we could make some kind of deal?

All in all, I would prefer he be the one with gun and the handcuffs.

[Reidy]

A very sexy story. Makes me wish the cat burglar would visit me.

[YugoSK]

Hot story! I hope this gets a sequel, we need to know what he will do to Mary. Maybe he kept the catburglar around too!

[laz]

great story

[LunaDog]

Fantastic! Again i say, i normally prefer 'F/M' but when a story is this well written, i can gladly overlook that.

[011020]

Fantastic story! Love the banter between the cat burglar and her would be target, and I can practically visualize the humiliating bondage ate the end!

[rtbw]

This was a great read. I like how you held the cloth yourself and inhaled it. It's refreshing compared to the usual scene with somebody coming from behind and forcefully shoving a chloroform cloth in the victim's face. I'd like to incorporate it into my own fantasies as a costumed crimefighter facing villains and villainesses

[laz]

will there be any more of this story going forward?

[emily-a]

will there be any more of this story going forward?

Sorry. I think what may or may not happens with these characters should be left to the imagination...

Thanks to everyone who´s left a kind comment!

[011020]

@emily-a Are you sure there won´t be a sequel? Not even a hint of what might happen next???

[emily-a]

@emily-a Are you sure there won´t be a sequel? Not even a hint of what might happen next???

I don´t really know what happens next. Personally, I thought it most likely I would just get sent to prison. (Yes, I like to fantasize the cat burglar is in fact me.) Of course, one can always imagine a few other possibilities…

REST OF THIS POST DELETED.
I decided to remove my own hypothesized continuation below. I think anything else that might happen really should be left to the imagination. People really don´t use their imaginations enough these days - so do feel free to suggest possibilities, if you want. I very much appreciate the ideas and enthusiasm of @Flyingvulture below!

[GreyLord]

This was an exciting read. Your writing flows very smoothly. Thanks for posting your story.

[011020]

@emily-a Love the continuation! Short and it leaves very little mystery as to the cat burglars fate, but it also leaves a lot up to the imagination as well

[Flyingvulture]

@emily-a Grat continuation, thank you for actually pushing through it!

Now that you invited the reader for ideas, I DO have some:

• What if you actually got sent to prison, BUT since John is pretty influential, I would assume he used his connections to pull strings to give you a special treatment while "in Jail".

• A trial with an exaggerated sentence that could only be remedied by, as you mentioned, arranging a "servitude service" under his "counseling".

• Maybe under his arm, you not only get shown at parties, but also get rented to those you have stolen from in the past, getting out more information out of you by different means.

• Could you imagine? powerful people hunting each other because of all the secrets you've spilled. Maybe, maybe, under this much chaos, you manage to keep them fighting each other to notice you escaping? Maybe that low level grunt that is VERY into you is finally convinced to escape with you in the truck of his car, keeping you away from this "world"?

[Bigballgag1]

Well aware i’m a bit late to the party as I’ve just read through this. Just wanted to say it was a very enjoyable read, I liked the natural chemistry between both characters. Leaving it open at the end allows for so many different options as well of what could possibly happen next.

Really good work! @emily-a