Runner's Home Invasion [M/F]

[El_llama]

So I’ve been craving something kinky, but haven’t been able to do anything, so I’ve decided to try my hand at writing some fiction. As always, hope you enjoy, any feedback etc is always welcome!!!
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I slowed to a stop at the street corner, breath steady as I checked Strava. A satisfied smirk tugged at my lips—I’d made the right call. With my boyfriend away, the loneliness had been gnawing at me, so I’d taken a night run to shake off the anxiety. The runner’s high hummed through my veins as I cranked up my music and strutted the last 100 meters home, pausing now and then to stretch.

Catching my reflection in a car window, I straightened my hair. At 5’4”, my slim frame was wrapped in grey leggings and a matching cropped tank. My brown hair, tied high in a ponytail, framed my porcelain face with two bleached-blonde strands—money pieces that always drew compliments. At 22, people often called my features ‘cute’ and ‘sharp,’ though I took more pride in my perfectly groomed brows. Tutting, I adjusted my silver septum ring, the pointed ends glinting under the streetlights. My white tennis socks and chunky blue running trainers completed the look.

I buzzed myself into the apartment building and took the stairs two at a time. If I hadn’t been riding so high, I might have noticed the door failing to latch behind me. If my music wasn’t blasting, I might have heard the footsteps trailing me.

Inside, I pulled out my earphones, wiped my face with a towel, and tossed it aside. The moment I sensed a presence at my door, I lunged to lock it—but too late. The door burst open, slamming into my shoulder as a figure forced his way in. Stumbling backward, I hit the floor with a sharp yelp.
I barely had time to suck in a breath before I screamed, “HEEE—MMMMPH!” A rough hand clamped over my mouth, cutting me off. My pulse hammered as I got my first good look at him—a red raincoat, hood up, black tracksuit bottoms stretching over thick, powerful legs. The pulled-up jacket masked his face, but his dark brows and sharp eyes burned with ruthless intent.

I writhed, twisting for the door, but he pinned my head down and grabbed my shirt in a fist. His breath ghosted over my skin as he growled, “Stop fucking squirming.” The pressure of his palm dug into my septum piercing, making my eyes water. My lungs fought for air. Panic surged. I clawed at his wrist, yanking at his hood in desperation. He wrenched my hand away and, in one swift motion, wrapped his fingers around my throat.
“Stop struggling before you get hurt.” His grip was firm, unyielding. I tried to speak, to beg—but the pressure silenced me. My body burned for oxygen as I locked eyes with him. Beneath the hood, his face had shifted into view—early thirties, dark buzzed hair, chiselled features, and stubble that carved along his jaw. My muscles screamed for air. Trembling, I went still. He leaned in, voice like a blade against my skin. “Are you going to behave?” A muffled whimper slipped past his hand. I nodded. Slowly, he released me. I gasped, sucking in air as I sat up—heart pounding, body thrumming with adrenaline.

“Look at me,” he commanded, “Where do you keep your valuables? Cash, electronics, jewellery?”
“I…I don’t have anything. I’m broke. I’ve got a £100 TV and a laptop from 2015, that’s it.” I stammered.
“Not true, I’ll find it myself,” he uttered while standing up. “I need to know you’re going to behave.” He continued before pulling a thick roll of silver duct tape out of his pocket before throwing it to me. “Take off your socks, and gag yourself with this.” My eyes darted from the tape, to the door, and then back to him. I felt a drop in my stomach when I realise what was happening. I drew a deep breath in, ready to scream again. The cold, stern look he gave me halted the scream in its tracks – apparently I was going to behave. With a lump in my throat, I took off my shoes and socks. He watched as I balled them up and crammed them into mouth. They were still damp from my run, the taste of sweat danced across my tongue like a banshee, and I was completely unable to close my lips. “Do it properly, or else I’ll make you regret it,” he warned me in an unwavering tone, gesturing with his head to the tape. Eyes starting to well up with tears, I pulled the tape away from the roll and plastered a length across my mouth. He leaned forwards expecting more, so I started to wrap the tape around my head. I lead the tape round and round my head, over my mouth, just under my nose, over my chin, until he finally told me to stop. The strong smell of duct tape wafted into my nostrils, reminding me of my helplessness.

I felt a single tear form as he walked over and took the tape from me. He yanked my wrists behind me and taped them together. I heard the tape peel away with a slow, sticky 'skriiiip' as he continued wrapping the tape tightly up my hands, over my fingers and thumbs. I tried to wriggle my fingers, but they were trapped in a single duct tape mitten. Standing over me triumphently, I felt him wrap tape around my chest and upper arms, first above my B-cup breasts, then below them. When he was done, my arms were pinned behind me and my breasts were bulging in their binds. I bit down into my sock gag every time I moved as it caused my erect nipples to rub against my sports bra.

I moaned in pain through my gag as he grabbed my hair, pulling me onto my feet. Roughly, he pushed me towards the open bedroom door before shoving me onto the bed. I let out an “Mmmmmph!” in protest as I fell face-first onto the bed, with my hands unable to break my fall. I gazed at the bedroom that was so familiar to me, it was typical for rented accommodation – grey furnishings, white bedding, cheap grey metal bed. Feeling him grab my ankle, I tensed my core and turned to get a look at what he had planned next. “Stay still!” he commanded as I watched him bend my right leg, bringing my ankle up against my buttock. He then bound the tape around my ankle and thigh in one single loop, pinning my leg in a frogtie position. He wrapped the tape like this up my shin and thigh, stopping just before my knee, my leg trapped in a tight tape hug. The man sighed as he stood back up and checked how much tape he had left. Clearly happy, he repeated the same process on my left leg, the tape screeching as it wound around my limb, drowning out my heavy breathing and marking the end of my freedom. Standing up, the man forced a wry smile when he looked at my bound form. I felt myself shrink under his gaze, raising my eyes and letting out a weak moan. “You stay there,” he stated, “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

With that, he was gone back out of sight into the living room, leaving me helpless. I struggled against my tape bondage, craving an escape. I didn’t know what this psychopath wanted to do with me, and didn’t want to wait to find out what would happen when he realised I *literally* had nothing of value. I tried to wriggle my legs out of their tight tape prison, but it clung tightly to my leggings, digging tightly into my thigh and showing no signs of yielding. Grunting and tensing my core, I struggled into a kneeling position. I could see the front door from this position, and could hear him rooting through the electronics. Twisting my hands in their bindings, I tried to pull them free. Realising that wasn’t going to work, I tried feebly pawing at my leg bindings with my bound fingers. I quickly realised that with my fingers encased in tape as they were, my hands were completely useless. Drawing in a deep breath, I flexed against the tape across my chest and arms. The tape let out a creak and dug into my arm, but showed no signs of release. I released the pressure with a grunt, the sensation of my clothes rubbing against my nipples sending the tiniest wave of pleasure through me.

Biting into my gag, I looked down at my bound chest, my erect nipples showing through my clothes. “Not like this, not now,” I thought to myself. Truth is, I had always had a thing for bondage, and a fantasy that involved being restrained and taken advantage of. I’d tried to live it out with my boyfriend, but he never liked being in that ‘dominant role’. For all of his positive, the fluffy haired skinny clown had never understood my desire to be tied up and fucked through the headboard. I looked up at the man currently searching through my kitchen drawers – his broad shoulders, strong facial features, and dominant demeanour just did something to me. I flopped forwards my bare feet dangling above me. “Don’t be such a slut,” I thought to myself and buried my head into the covers. I turned my attention to trying to escape again. Twisting and writhing in my bondage, I quickly came to the realised that I was stuck. I was his. Whatever he wanted to do, I could do nothing to stop it. If he wanted a little fuck doll, then I would be his little fuck doll. I groaned into my gag at the thought. I could feel I was getting wet, and my nipples sent pleasure up my spine every time I squirmed.

Before I knew it, I was humping the bed, rubbing my clit up and down as best as my bondage would allow. My nostrils flared with the effort, and I let out quiet moans as I went. Pleasure coursed through my body with each hump, but I knew it was never going to be enough. I needed more, I was desperate. Right on cue, he stepped back into the bedroom, holding my camera. It was a cheap model, he’d likely not even get £40 if he sold it. “Is this it? Is this all you have?” He huffed with a furrowed brow. I nodded meekly in response. “Mmmmmph! Mmmphwease!” I moaned to him through my gag. I slowly and deliberately arched my back and humped the bed again to communicate my desires. “Oh for fuck sakes!” he snapped, bringing his hand up to his forehead and turning away. He muttered, “Fucking gen Z girls man,” before turning back to me, “Fine then you little slut, let’s do this.”

I recoiled from his words and watched as he pulled his trousers down to expose his genitals; his dick hard and throbbing. He made his way over to me and manhandled me onto my back. Gripping the waistband of my leggings, he yanked them down. Grunting with the effort, he managed to pull them down far enough to expose my wet pussy. I shuddered with anticipation, my heavy breathing ragged through my flared nostrils. Holding his dick proud, he said “Are you ready for this, bitch?”. Worried about what I was getting myself into, I gave the tiniest nod. Guiding his dick with his hand, he slid himself into me. I gasped and moaned as I bit into my gag at the sensation. My moans got louder as he started to pump his dick back and forth, pleasure coming in waves as he moved. I looked up at the man who owned me, his piercing eyes focussed on using me to pleasure himself.

Suddenly, he pulled out. “Nah fuck this, not enough” he responded before disappearing into the kitchen. Flustered and confused, I scrambled onto my front to see what he was doing. He stepped back into the bedroom, holding pair of scissors. Grabbing hold of my hips, he span me round and prompted me to kneel, arching my back upwards. I felt the cold steel of the scissors on the bottom of my back. I wondered what he was doing, before I heard the ‘snip snip snip’ as they ran down my back and underneath my ass. I quickly realised what he was doing… he’d cut open my leggings, to get better access to my pussy. I felt him drag my leggings away from my ass, with a further rip as he pulled them away from my pussy underneath.

“Mmmmmmmppph!!” I moaned in pain and pleasure as he gripped my ass cheek so hard it hurt. He placed a rough hand on my hip, guiding me to arch my back higher. I let out a silent gasp beneath my gag as he slid the full length of his dick into me. My eyes rolled back and I bit into my gag as I felt my pussy fill with his cock. Grunting as he went, he started pumping slowly at first. Each movement of his dick sending exciting waves tingling through my bound body. Twisting in my bondage only heightened my pleasure. It reenforced my helplessness. The tape digging into my skin reminded me that I was his. I had asked for this, and I was loving it. I started to moan as his humps got harder and faster. My body was tingling with euphoria. I pulled against my wrist restraints to heighten the sensation. He started to let out his own pleasured moans, and I responded with my own elated sounds through my gag. I lifted my head to look at the man fucking me, but he slammed it back down onto the bed. Running his fingers along my scalp, he gripped my hair forcefully and yanked my neck back. I gritted my teeth as best as I could through my gag and let out an ecstatic “Mmmmmmmpghr!”. I could feel pressure building between my legs, I could feel I was about to come. Shaking as his rock hard cock pounded my pussy, I let out increasingly high pitch moans, begging him not to stop. “You like that slut? Yeah, you like that?” he goaded breathlessly.
“MMMMMMPH!!!” I tried to nod. I felt the orgasm coming, and tensed against my tiny duct tape prison. The restraints cut into my skin as I writhed. I let out a wide-eyed, high pitched “MMMMMMMMMMMPHHHH!” in pleasure as I came. Ecstasy running through my veins, as my hungry pussy twitched around his cock. I felt him push my head further into the bed as he let moaned “Aaaaah, fuck!”, followed by four more rapid pumps. His dick twitched inside me as he came, he let out a number of contented breaths as he orgasmed. I moaned and curled my toes as he filled my horny pussy with cum, his pumps slowing now his dick was satisfied.

He pulled out of me and I slumped down on the bed, head swimming. Everything after my orgasm felt like a dream. My slutty mind was satisfied now, and only interested in switching off. I watched through bleary eyes as he pulled his pants back up and picked up the camera, regarding it for a second. Bringing it up to my face, I heard a *click* as he took a photo, before he threw it onto the bed. He cleared his throat before speaking, “There, a little memento for you.” He rubbed his forehead and looked at the door, surely he wasn’t going to leave me like this. He took up the scissors and cut away the tape restraining my fingers, leaving the tape around my legs, chest and wrists. He threw the scissors on the far-side of the bed and walked to towards the door, sighing and shaking his head as he went. “Sort your fucking life out!” he shouted as he left and shut the door. That was it… as quickly as that, he was gone.

I lay on my belly in silence for some time. Ass exposed and pussy dripping with cum. I looked at the scissors that would grant me freedom, and decided that they were too far away at the moment. I closed my eyes and my thoughts drifted to what had just happened.

[PenelopeRopes]

Oh man, I'd hate that (I'd love that)

[El_llama]

Oh man, I'd hate that (I'd love that)

Haha you know it! Glad you liked it!

[Ms Evie]

Another excellent story from you!

[tickletied84]

Really enjoyed this - am not usually a fan of home invasion stories, but the reaction of the victim made it worthwhile!

[El_llama]

Really enjoyed this - am not usually a fan of home invasion stories, but the reaction of the victim made it worthwhile!

Another excellent story from you!

Thank youuuuu