Female burglar (F/m)

[Bondageboi]

A teenage boy, or just pre teen, is home alone, playing video games, t shirt, jeans or shorts, bare feet.

He doesn’t notice the masked female burglar enter the house. How does she make sure he doesn’t raise the alarm and what else does she do.
?

[TuggyMale]

This sounds more like a story request lol

What exactly do you expect?

[Snozzberry]

She ties him in a very tight BoxTie with leather straps around his thighs, above and below his knees, but not the ankles yet this way he can still bunny hop easier toget around to show her where the valuables are. She puts his dirty underwear in his mouth and a leather hood on him, with a very wide and thick inflatable tongue depressor to finnish the gag. The hood has small eye holes that only let him see In front of him to lead her to the valuables, the eyeholes can be closed off with flaps. After she has all the monetary valuable she hogties him and carries him out out to her getaway van, taking him to her hideout, thereby kidnapping the most valuable possession his parents had. Does she keep him as a servent or ransom him. Decisions, Decisions - I HATE DECISIONS

[TuggyMale]

A teenage boy, or just pre teen, is home alone, playing video games, t shirt, jeans or shorts, bare feet.

He doesn’t notice the masked female burglar enter the house. How does she make sure he doesn’t raise the alarm and what else does she do.
?

As she sees the maybe 12- or 13-year old blond boy sitting in his gaming chair, a plan comes to her mind. She turned the table around and pressed her hand on his mouth. He‘s definitely 12 and not 13. He has blue eyes and is wearing black shorts and a red shirt with some white text printing on the front. On his left wrist, he‘s wearing some kind of Dive watch on a rubber strap.
„I don’t think I need to explain to you why I‘m here. So you just don’t cause any problems and we‘ll be fine, okay?“ The boy just nods. She grabs a pair of clean white ankles socks and forces them into his mouth. Then, she adds a strip of tape over his mouth. Furthermore, she‘s tying his arms to the armrests of his gaming chair with more duct tape and tapes his ankles together. „That‘s mine now!“ With an evil grin, she removes his watch from his wrists and keeps looking around the house. After a few minutes she returns to check on him. Thankfully she had locked the door before because the boy somehow managed to free himself.

„Alright Little guy, you make this way harder than you should!“ With that, she closes the door and locks it, then opens her duffel bag to reveal several coils of black nylon rope, 3 big yellow sponge balls and a roll of black gorilla tape. The boy looks at the materials with a shocked face. He tries to fight but is easily overpowered. Soon, he‘s tied in a hogtie. His hands are big tape gloves. He was forced to hold two sponge balls before the woman taped his hands into black fists. He is also tied with rope at the wrists, just above the elbows, at the ankles, shins and upper thighs. Another rope connects his two big toes together. His ankles are so close to his wrists that they‘re touching.
The third sponge ball was put in the boy‘s mouth. Afterwards, the woman wrapped the tape around his lower jaw 10 times, silencing him completely.

„You‘re really cute now, right?“ The woman grinned at him, but all he could respond was „Lmmmmmh mhhhhh gmmmmm!“ To which she responded „Sorry sweetie, not happening.“ She tickled his feet for a while before saying „Alright, I need to leave. I‘m sure your parents will find you soon!“
With that, she leaves the house, leaving the hogtied and struggling boy alone.

[zarquon]

That's quite good!

[TuggyMale]

That's quite good!

Thanks haha

Was pretty long for such a thing, But I‘m glad you liked it

[Bondageboi]

@TuggyMale lovely thanks. Wish she could have tickled me for longer.

[TuggyMale]

@TuggyMale lovely thanks. Wish she could have tickled me for longer.

You’re welcome, I‘m glad you liked it

And for that… well, maybe keep an eye out for my next story

[suedenym]

In the quiet, unassuming neighborhood of Willow Creek, the sun dipped low in the sky, casting long shadows over the well-kept lawns. Inside the Jenkins' house, the living room was bathed in the blue glow of a video game console. Thirteen-year-old Timmy sat cross-legged on the floor, eyes glued to the screen, a jumbo bag of crisps by his side, and a coke can balancing precariously on the arm of the couch. His T-shirt was damp with sweat, and his shorts were wrinkled from hours of gaming. The only sounds in the room were the occasional crunch of a crisp and the muffled cries of digital combat echoing through his headset.

The sudden creak of the front door went unnoticed by the young boy, his head set blocking out the outside world, his mind set in a fantasy world. His heart raced as he revelled in being home alone, his parents having gone to the movies hours ago. He'd told them not to worry, that he could handle it, but now, in the face of the unknown, his bravado wavered. The door closed with a soft click, and the house was eerily still again, save for the distant hum of a lawnmower outside. He chalked the noise up to his overactive imagination and turned back to his game.

The first clue that something was amiss came when the hallway light flickered into the room. Timmy paused the game, his thumb hovering over the controller, his eyes narrowing suspiciously at the flickering shadows playing across the wall. He knew he'd turned the hallway lights off. Slowly, he slipped the headset off, letting it hang around his neck, and listened intently. His heart began to thump in his chest as the quiet grew heavier, each beat echoing in his ears like a drumroll before battle.

As he strained to hear any sign of movement, the faint scuffle of a shoe against the floorboard, the creak,of a door, a click,of a cupboard, but nithing reached him. Frozen in place, Timmy watched as the shadow grew larger, a dark silhouette appearing in the doorway. His thoughts raced, trying to piece together a logical explanation, but fear began to clutch at his throat. He was about to call out when a gloved hand clamped over his mouth, muffling his cry. A figure knelt beside him, her eyes meeting his through the slits of a black ski mask. Panic surged through him, and he struggled against her firm grip. She was dressed all in black, from her ski mask to hersoftbfelt boots iver black nylon stockinged feet.

Timmy's eyes widened in terror as the masked woman spoke in a low, calm voice, "Don't scream, I just want your stuff, okay?" She sounded surprisingly young, but the authority in her tone sent shivers down his spine. He nodded frantically, his eyes pleading for mercy. She removed her hand from his mouth and produced a roll of duct tape. "Keep quiet," she ordered, holding the roll,up high.

With moe black tape, she secured his wrists behind his back and bound his ankles together. The tape felt sticky and cold against his skin, a stark contrast to the warmth of the room. Timmy's mind raced, trying to come up with an escape plan or a way to alert someone of his situation, but the fear had taken hold, paralyzing his thoughts. She lifted his chin gently, forcing him to look at her, and pushed a balled up piece of cloth in hus mouth then, with another piece of tape, she silenced his voice. The act was swift and efficient, leaving him gagged and utterly helpless.

The burglar surveyed the room, her eyes scanning the shelves and cabinets with a practiced gaze. Timmy watched her, his heart racing as the reality of the situation sunk in. His eyes darted to the phone on the coffee table, a silent plea to be set free. But she was too quick, her gaze snapping back to him, and she shook her head. "Don't even think about it," she whispered, as if reading his mind.

With swift, decisive movements, she unraveled more of the black tape and approached him again. She taped his elbows together, the sticky material digging into his skin. The pressure was uncomfortable, but the fear of further restraint kept him from struggling. Each pull of the tape sent a jolt of panic through him, but he remained still, not wanting to provoke her further. His breath grew shallower, the gag in his mouth making it difficult to swallow.

Next, she taped his knees together, the sound of the tape ripping through the silence like a gunshot. Timmy felt a strange sense of vulnerability, his legs rendered useless, unable to kick out or even stand up. She wound the tape around and around, creating a tight, constricting band that made his legs feel like a single unit. The material was unforgiving, and he knew any attempt to move would only cause pain. The burglar worked with a disturbing calmness, her eyes never leaving his, as if to ensure she had complete control over the situation.

Finally, she pulled his arms back and wrapped more tape around his torso, securing them to his body. The pressure was uncomfortable, but the fear of what might happen next was worse. He was now a bound, muted spectator in his own home, unable to do anything but watch as the intruder ransacked his family's belongings. Timmy's heart hammered against his ribcage, each beat a silent cry for help that no one would hear.

[60Cancer]

She soon realizes that the boy is the most valuable one. Judging from the very tasteful and expensive surroundings, the family is rich. Obviously the parents would pay an extremely large ransom to get the boy back in one piece .

[Bondageboi]

@suedenym

Oh lovely, and if you want to go with @60Cancer ifea of kidnapping mmmmmmmmmm

[suedenym]

@suedenym

Oh lovely, and if you want to go with @60Cancer ifea of kidnapping mmmmmmmmmm

Maybe an alternate ending!

[JulieG]

Rufus, a lanky teen with shaggy brown hair, sat cross-legged on his bed, eyes glued to the flickering TV screen. The room was a typical adolescent domain, a minefield of dirty laundry and half-eaten snacks. His thumbs danced over the game controller, navigating his digital avatar through a pixelated jungle. The sound of virtual gunfire and explosions filled the air, muffled by the cheap earbuds lodged in his ears. On the window ledge , a solitary fan lazily pushed the warm air around the room. But that same warm air would lead to his downfall today as several downstairs windows were open this humid evening.

Suddenly, the door to his room swung open with a quiet creak. Rufus didn't look up. He figured it was just his mom coming to nag him about dinner. But the scent of something unfamiliar wafted in—a mix of rain and something metallic. That's when he felt the cool press of a blade against his neck. He froze, the game controller slipping from his hand. The digital warfare on the screen faded to background noise as the real world's battle began.

"Not a sound," a firm, yet shaky, female voice ordered. Rufus' heart hammered in his chest, and his mind raced. His eyes darted around the room, searching for anything that might help, but all he found was a wall of posters and a mess of cables. The person behind him was definitely not his mom. “Hands behind your back!” Again shaky but at the same time not something to be argued with. He heard the rustle of fabric as she secured his hands with something that felt like rope. It was tight, but not painful, yet.

Julie, the masked intruder with fiery red hair, took a step back to survey her handiwork. Her eyes darted around the room, looking for any signs of potential escape tools. She had to be quick and efficient. The longer she stayed here, the higher the risk of getting caught. The blade was still at his neck, a silent reminder of her presence and the gravity of the situation.

Her heart pounded in her chest, the thrill of the heist mixing with the fear of discovery. At 46, she wasn't a novice at this, but each job still had its own set of nerve-wracking moments. She took a deep breath to steady her hands before proceeding to gag him. First a roll of cloth, a non descript scarf from a second hand jumble sale, where she kbtained mostbof her tie up materials, yhen wrapped over his mouth, around his head and over his eyes, several turns of bright red 2’ wide tape.

Next she mkved to tie his ankles together, ensuring he was completely immobilized. The rope bit into his skin as she pulled it tight, but Rufus remained still, his breathing shallow and quick. This wasn’t her preferred method but , having found an jnexpected resident at home, she had to make sure he couldn’t call for help. She whispered an apology, hoping he could hear the sincerity behind her mask.

With the blindfold sevured, she finally took the hood off her head. Sweat beaded on her forehead, a mix of heat from the stifling room and the adrenaline of the situation. Her red hair was pulled back into a tight bun, strands escaping to stick to her neck. She took a moment to wipe her forehead with the back of her hand, her eyes flicking to Rufus’s blindfolded form. She felt a strange mix of pity and satisfaction. Pity for the fear she saw in his rigid posture, satisfaction at the job well done.

Julie's gaze returned to the task at hand. She had to ensure he couldn't move his legs at all. Carefully, she bound his knees with more rope, ensuring it wasn’t too tight to cause him pain, but tight enough to keep him from kicking. Each pull of the rope was followed by a muffled sound from Rufus, but she steeled herself, reminding herself of the necessity of her actions. His knees were bound together, and then she wrapped the rope around his elbows, cinching them close to his back. The long loose ends of the elbow tie she wrapped around his vhest binding his arms further out of use.

With a sigh, she grabbed his ankles, lifting them to the same height as his wrists. The effort required to move his legs made her realize he was taller and heavier than he looked. She secured his ankles to his elbow rie with another length of rope. The tension in the ropes grew taught as she tightened the knot. He was now hogtied in the middle of his bed, a silent, unmoving figure in a sea of rumpled blankets.

Rufus felt the ropes dig into his skin as she pulled, his breathing grew more ragged against the gag. The fabric smelled faintly of mothballs and a hint of something else, something that reminded him of his grandpa’s old suitcases. He tried to calm down, to think of a way out of this mess, but all he could focus on was the heat and the tightness around his limbs. His mind was racing, trying to make sense of the sudden turn of events. Who was this woman? Why was she doing this? Was he going to die in his own bedroom?

Julie stepped back to admire her handiwork. Rufus’ legs were now bent at the knees and tied to his wrists, a classic hogtie. The knots were tight but not cutting off his circulation. She knew from experience that a good bind was one that kept the victim immobile without causing unnecessary harm. She didn’t want to be remembered as a sadist; she was just trying to survive. She had bills to pay, a life to live, and this was the only job that paid the bills without killing her soul.

The room fell into an uneasy silence, only broken by Rufus’s intermittent froans and the occasional rustle of fabric as Rufus struggled against his bonds. The tension in the air was palpable, thick enough to cut with the very blade that had secured him. Julie took a moment to listen for any sounds of someone else coming home, but all she heard was the muffled cries of the video game characters and the steady tick of the clock on the wall.

“Sorry Kiddo. Dont take it oersonally. It’s just my job OK.”

Julie's voice was softer now, almost motherly. It sent a chill down Rufus' spine, a stark contrast to the situation. He felt the bed dip as she sat beside him, her eyes scanning the room for valuables. The mattress groaned under her weight, and the springs complained with each movement she made. Rufus’ thoughts swirled—his heart was racing, and his palms felt slick with sweat. He had to find a way out of this, but his mind was a mess of fear and confusion.

Her hand brushed against his bare feet, and he flinched. "Don't worry, I'll be out of here soon," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the video game's soundtrack. "Just keep still, and nobody will get hurt."

Julie began to methodically search the house. She rifled through the drawers, her eyes scanning for any glint of gold or the telltale shape of a wallet. Rufus could hear the sound of objects being moved and the occasional clink of something metallic. Each rustle and clank felt like a dagger in his heart. He had to get out of this.

He started to feel the ropes with his bound hands, searching for any looseness, any potential escape route. The knots were tight, but not impossible to untie—or so he hoped. His fingers felt clumsy, sweat making the ropes slippery. He took a deep breath, trying to focus past the panic and into the world of problem-solving. Twisting and turning his wrists, he began to work on the knot, applying pressure and feeling for any give, butbthere was none.

Agtervtwenty minutes, the sound of the front door closing echoed through the house and he was alone. No closer to freedom than when he started his escape.

[blowthelights]

A teenage boy, or just pre teen, is home alone, playing video games, t shirt, jeans or shorts, bare feet.

He doesn’t notice the masked female burglar enter the house. How does she make sure he doesn’t raise the alarm and what else does she do.
?

Probably surprising them with showing some boob and use the confusion to tie and gag them before they come to their senses and start to scream

[Bondageboi]

A teenage boy, or just pre teen, is home alone, playing video games, t shirt, jeans or shorts, bare feet.

He doesn’t notice the masked female burglar enter the house. How does she make sure he doesn’t raise the alarm and what else does she do.
?

Probably surprising them with showing some boob and use the confusion to tie and gag them before they come to their senses and start to scream

Sounds good to me. Bare boobs would have paralysed me at that age.