Snagged (MM/F)

[Z-13]

It was a cloudy, overcast day, and I was tired. I’d been working a long week, and now, at long last, I was heading home. I was the last one to leave the office for my boring reception job and was about ready to jump into my car when I realized that I’d left my bag back inside the building, by my desk, along with my phone.
I was a short, thin girl, with long dark hair, dark eyes, and olive skin. 22 years old, but often mistaken for a teenager. Too often. With a half-utterable groan, I leaned against the car for a moment, mustering the strength to head back inside. Last thing, I told myself drearily. Then, I’ll go home, watch TV and do nothing for the weekend.
That sounded like heaven to me. With one last deep breath, I trudged back towards the building, and went through the doors to head towards my work’s suite.
I was fumbling with my keychain, trying to find the key that would open the office door, when I realized that there was a pair of strange men standing in front of the office suite’s locked door. They were in the same vein; tall, muscular, and wearing dark clothes and thick leather jackets and gloves. They watched me as I approached, and I tried to steel the nerves dancing around in my belly.
I smiled shyly at them and stepped uncomfortably close, trying to open the door. “Excuse me,” I muttered.
I’d no sooner slid the key into the door’s lock when a large, thick hand smothered my mouth, and an arm wrapped tightly across my chest like a bar of steel, trapping my arms at my sides.
Panic settled in quickly from that point on. I screamed, but beneath the man’s big hand, barely more than an mmmph was audible. I thrashed against him, kicking against the door and wriggling the best I could.
In response, he hefted me up and backwards, hauling me away from anything I could kick off against, and then threw me roughly to the ground. He sat heavily on my chest and arms, keeping me immobile, and kept his hand clapped firmly over my mouth.
“Restrain her legs,” he growled, and the other man threw a duffel bag on the floor beside me and rifled through it until he found a bundle of thick white rope. When I caught a glimpse of that, my struggling intensified, but compared to the might of two full-grown men I was powerless.
The man pulled off my shoes, then tied the rope into a loop and pulled it tight around my ankles, despite all my best kicking and struggling to deter him. He pulled it excruciatingly tight, and I sobbed beneath the strange man’s thick hand, breathing heavily through my nose.
He wrapped the rope several times around my ankles horizontally and then vertically, cinching the bindings tight. By the time he’d tied it off, my ankles felt welded together. Satisfied with his work, the man moved upwards, repeating the bindings above and below my knees, and then around my thighs, taking extra care to pull the ropes as tightly as they would go.
“Pull her up,” he said, and the man straddling my arms yanked me upwards by my face and held me tightly against him, holding both my arms behind me in the crook of his elbow with one arm and keeping my mouth handgagged with the other. His partner then got to work on tying my hands together, pulling his loop tight around my wrists, looping the rope horizontally, and then vertically to cinch the bindings extra-tight.
Once my hands were practically welded behind my back, the man holding me laughed, and pulled me in close to him. His hand was so tight on my mouth I thought my face would pop. “You’re ours, now, bitch,” he hissed in my ear.
I screamed beneath his hand, wildly struggling, but being bound and held tightly there wasn’t any way to get away from him. Both men laughed cruelly.
“Get out the gag,” he told his friend. “The big one. Time to muzzle this bitch.”
I fought as best I could as the other man returned to the duffle bag and produced what looked like a web of straps attached to a thick black, rectangular panel on the outside, as well as a small black rag. He then loomed over me, a wicked grin plastered across his face.
The man holding me then moved his hand down, grabbing my chin and wrenching my jaw open. I barely managed to cough out a yelp before the rag was stuffed into my mouth, pinning my tongue down and muffling the noise. He then forced the bit underneath the panel into my mouth, and pulled two of the straps so tightly behind my head I almost missed the handgag, buckling them securely where I couldn’t reach. There were more straps that went under my chin and in-between my eyes, which were not only humiliating, but pulled the device even more cruelly tight against my face.
Once the men were satisfied with the straps, the man finally released his grip on me. Not that I could do much in the state I was now in, bound and gagged as securely as I was. I fought against the ropes and tried to rub the gag off, but it was futile — I was well and truly trapped.
But the creeps were just getting started. “Pass me more rope.” The man who’d grabbed me said. “It’s not fair you got all the fun in trussing her up. Besides, I wanna give her a present.”
The second man laughed, and tossed him another bundle. The man wasted no time in wrapping it around my waist, threading it through my bound hands for good measure, to keep them securely in place behind my back.
Once he’d tied this new loop securely at the front of my stomach, he shoved me backwards to the ground, where I helplessly flopped with a terrorized mph! The man then shoved the ends of the rope in-between my legs, which was no easy feat, as they’d tied my thighs together as tightly as they could. I squealed as my sensitive area was violated, trying to slip away, but escape was useless.
After cruelly taking his time with the process, the man flipped me onto my stomach as if I weighed as much as a feather pillow, and pulled the rope in between my legs tight. I screamed into the gag, bucking around on the floor as the rope rubbed against my crotch, but he only laughed and pulled it even tighter.
Then, once he was satisfied, he tied it off to the belt of rope around my waist and then again around my wrists, where I couldn’t hope to reach. This new rope was tight and uncomfortable, and moving even a little sent strange sensations of pain and pleasure jolting through me.
“How do you like that?” He laughed, and I grunted as he smacked my ass. “Almost done. She can still move her arms a bit too much for my liking.”
Helplessly, I waited as he wound rope around my torso above and below my breasts, pinning my arms to my back. The ropes were so tight I felt like I was being squeezed.
“Perfect,” the man cackled, and I turned my face away from them in shame and fear, fighting back tears. I felt his hand, firm but surprisingly gentle, grab my chin and force me to look him in the eyes. “Ah, now don’t be so shy, shortie. You look beautiful all bound and gagged in a nice package.”
Fuck you! I tried to say, but it came out as mmm mmph!
He laughed, then got to his feet and hauled me over his shoulder as if I were a sack of potatoes. I squealed and kicked, but with the ropes tightly constricting my body, especially the crotch rope, there was nothing I could do.



(Welp, that’s all for this one. I probably won’t finish it. But I hope you enjoyed what I did get done.)

[Trickster]

Yes! That was a great read!!!

[Dpsiic]

Great story hope you do finish it