6 comments/ 55474 views/ 12 favorites Startled Awake By: quietlyhorny A loud slam startled me awake from a deep sleep. When I propped myself up on my arm, I remembered nothing more than the stinging pain on my forehead as the world went dark again. It could have been hours, but more than likely minutes when I finally came to. No longer was I in the comforting warmth of my bed. Now, I was sitting in a wooden chair in the corner of my room. It took me a little while to figure things out. In the darkness of the room, I could recognize that I was still in my bedroom, and I recognized the chair as one from the hallway -- the solid oak chair that got very little use sitting outside the door of the bedroom. Someone had moved it to the foot of the bed and didn't want me to move from it. I tested the restraints that held my wrists to the arms of the chair and wiggled my feet, which were tightly secured to the legs of the chair at my ankles. I was still as naked as the moment I slipped under the sheets beside my wife, for what I thought would be a good night's sleep. My mind suddenly turned to my wife. My eyes started to find their focus in the low light of the room, and I looked around frantically. As I tried to call out for her, my voice was muffled by the sock that was shoved into my mouth. It didn't take long to find her silhouette leaning up against the headboard. Her arms also seemed to be tied there. She was trying frantically to free herself, rattling the headboard and pulling at her restraints. I could hear her muffled sobs through her gag as well. But who did this? Why us? Why now? There didn't seem to be anyone else in the room with us. Was this just a robbery? A smash and grab, leaving us tied up so we couldn't call the police? All of my questions were soon answered. The sounds of footsteps outside the bedroom door indicated to me that there was still some unfinished business. The door swung open, and the light on the nightstand flickered to life. My eyes hurt from the sudden change of contrast. My first thought was my wife. I looked across the bed and there she was, indeed restrained, her naked skin now gleaming in the light. As she continued to strain and struggle, she would arch her back, her breasts reaching out in front of her. Whoever tied us up seemed to be liking the show, with a soft laugh coming from that side of the bed. I looked over to the man, trying to see if I recognized him. A rubber mask of George W. Bush covered his face, and a tight white t-shirt strained to contain his well-built chest and arms. He stood about 6'4", towering over the bed. "That would be why my head hurts so much right now," I thought to myself, still trying to shake out the cobwebs of unconsciousness. He worked his way around the room, slapping me on the back of my head as he moved to my wife's side of the bed. He stood beside her, silently looking. She tried kicking him but missed. Her sobs had now turned into angry grunts as she continued to fight to try and free herself. I'd long given up the battle with the leather straps. Finally, the man spoke. "You should stop struggling. You're just making it worse for yourself," he said in a slow and deliberate tone. My wife did stop, her arms hanging from the straps at the top of the headboard. She turned onto a hip in an attempt to hide her nudity in front of a total stranger. I felt helpless. "I have this to make you stop struggling, if you want to go that route," he said as he flashed a fairly large kitchen knife. "It's really your choice." My wife started to cry. The man traced the knife down her left arm to her shoulder, down her collarbone, over her left breast and then down her stomach, the knife leaving a red scratch in its wake. "You know what you can do for me so you don't get hurt?" he asked, not really expecting an answer. "You're going to fuck me right in front of your husband here," motioning in my direction. "All right? I'm going to untie you, and you're not going to do anything stupid." My wife nodded her head in agreement. It wasn't like she could really do anything to this neanderthal; she was only 5'4" and about 120 pounds soaking wet. She wasn't overly busty, but well-proportioned for her size. Sure she worked out a little, when she had time, but this guy could probably break her in two. He used the knife to cut the straps around her wrists and her arms fell to her side. Her wrists glowed red where she struggled against the straps. She rubbed them to try to bring some relief. He looked at her, holding the knife out in front of her, so she could still see that he was in charge. "We cool?," he asked in a very friendly tone. She nodded in agreement again, looking over to me. I nodded to her as if to say, "do what he says." He set the knife down on a chair behind him and turned his attention to his clothes. He slipped his t-shirt over his head, revealing a chiseled torso. The mask popped off his head, but he quickly put it back on. I tried, but still didn't get a clear look. He unbuttoned his jeans and slipped them down over his hips. He wasn't wearing any underwear and in the dim light of the room, I could clearly see his manhood hanging in front of him. Judging from where it hung down to his thigh, I quickly recognized that he didn't need any help in that department. "I'm going to take off your gag, but I'm warning you now: if you scream, I won't hesitate to cut off his cock," he said, again looking in my direction. She looked over too, catching my eye, and then nodded in agreement. He pulled the gag from her mouth and pitched it onto the floor beside the bed. "Now, I want you to pretend I'm him," pointing over to me, "and I want you to suck my cock." He took a step closer to the edge of the bed. She turned her body to him, looking over at me. "I . . . I can't," she muttered softly. "You will, or I'll be forced to make you suffer." Reluctantly, she reached out with her right hand, her fingertips touching the shaft of his still soft cock. It bounced at her touch. She grabbed the shaft and held it out, inches from her face. She looked over to me one more time, before opening her mouth and taking the tip of his growing member into her mouth. I couldn't believe my eyes; my heart was pounding a hundred miles an hour. I focused on her mouth slowly swallowing his shaft, getting about halfway down before backing off completely. Amazed, I found my own erection growing. I'd never thought of "sharing" my wife but watching her handle another man was a complete turn on. It didn't surprise me at all that before too long, he was at full mast, with her skilled lips sliding easily down his now glistening shaft. His hands fell to the back of her head, as he pushed her face deeper onto him. I could hear gagging as the end of his cock reached the back of her throat. He started to moan a little and picked up the pace, seemingly getting lost in the feeling of fucking her face. My own cock was throbbing as I watched the scene unfold in front of me. Knowing what it feels like to have her mouth on my stiffness, I knew exactly how he felt right now. I wanted it right now, too. I pulled at my restraints again, but couldn't free myself. My cock was begging to be touched. A solid groan came from his lips as he pushed my wife back onto the bed. She fell back, her breasts bouncing as the soft mattress cushioned her fall. He stood there, his large cock standing out straight from his body, and a grin growing on his face. I couldn't believe my eyes when I looked over to my wife; she wasn't scrambling to cover herself up. As a matter of fact, a sly smile was growing on her face to mirror his. He leaned over and grabbed her by the hips, manhandling her roughly. He spun her around and pulled her up onto her knees. She looked over her shoulder back to him as he positioned himself behind her. With one solid thrust, he pushed his entire length inside of her. She let out a loud gasp as he filled her and held it in there for a second. Slowly, he started thrusting, pulling almost all the way out before pushing it deep again. Their bodies slapped together as he built a rhythm. I looked down at my own cock. Pre-cum was dripping from the throbbing tip, so much so that it was forming a little puddle on the seat of the chair. I couldn't believe I was loving the sight of my wife being forced to fuck a stranger. And fucking him she was, pushing her hips back against him, meeting his thrusts. She looked just as much into it as he was. She would bite her lips as he continued to slide his entire length inside of her. Her hands gripped the sheets tightly in a fist. I knew exactly what was going to happen next. A loud groan came from her mouth as her arms collapsed under the weight of her body. He wouldn't let her fall completely, holding her hips and moaning loudly as her pussy spasmed on his cock. The muscles in his chest were rippling as he pulled his cock from her and spun her around on the bed. She sat in front of him, her breasts at the level of his cock as he gripped and stroked it quickly. Still wet from her pussy juices, his hand easily slid up and down the length. He started to grunt and groan before his back arched and he released stream after stream of his thick white juices onto her face. It covered her cheeks and lips, with some dripping down onto her perky breasts. He pushed her back onto the bed again, as he quickly got dressed and grabbed the knife. He didn't say a word while grabbing the knife and turning for the door. My wife didn't look at him as he went to leave, but I couldn't take my eyes off him. As he walked past me, he noticed my throbbing, dripping cock: "Looks like you enjoyed that almost as much as I did. Maybe I should come back," he said, with his voice returning to that earlier soft tone. "Better lock your doors," he said as his footsteps disappeared down the hallway and out the front door. Startled Awake...Again Please read Startled Awake, for the first part in this series. That will give you all the background you need to hopefully enjoy this one. :) ----- It was a beautiful night. The sun was setting and we'd just finished up a nice candle light dinner in the dining room. We only used the dining room for special occasions, but felt tonight was a good night to appreciate each other. So we dusted off the good china, the silver and uncorked the most expensive bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon we had in the cellar. Tonight was going to be all about us. I was tidying up the table with my wife in the kitchen, loading the dishes into the dishwasher. I heard a knock at the door. "Always around dinnertime. Geez. Can't we have one night in peace?" I mumbled under my breath. "Don't worry Sweetheart, I'll get it. Probably just someone selling something." I called into the next room as I lazily made my way to the front door, hoping whoever was there would think we were ignoring them. Truth is, I always wanted to check the door. I guess I have a curious nature. I took a peek out the window and noticed someone standing with their back to the house, looking out to the driveway. They were dressed smartly, with dark slacks and a dark grey overcoat. I reached for the door, unlocking it and opening it quickly. "That's okay, we're not...." is all I could get out before I felt a stabbing pain in my head, and the world went dark. I recognized the pain. I'd felt it before. It had been a few months but I now found myself in a position I swore I'd never be in again. I slowly opened my eyes as I gave my head a shake. That made it hurt even more. The lights were on in the room I was in but it still took a few seconds before I could really focus. Since that night, we'd upgraded the security in our home. New locks on the doors, bars on the basement windows and an alarm system. We didn't want to feel like victims in our own home again. But here we are. I pull at the ropes holding my wrists to the arms of the chair. My legs are strapped to the legs. I can wiggle, but that's about it. I'm in the living room though. That part I recognize. All the main overhead lights are on in the room and in the kitchen. Something we never do. But something is missing. There was no sign of my wife. I try to scream out, but only a muffle comes out. The rolled up sock in my mouth preventing anything from being heard. I pull hard at my restraints, but make no progress in freeing myself. Exhausted, I sit slumped in the chair. I hadn't heard a noise from any other part of the house. "Maybe he took her." I sadly thought to myself, picturing the worst of possible outcomes. "Maybe he took her, and left me here to die a slow, horrible death." My imagination now running wild. Suddenly, I heard a rustling behind me. I spun my head around and spotted my wife. She was lying on the floor, facing away from me, and appeared to have her hands tied tied at her front with a rope attaching her wrists to the loop around her ankles. Much like me, the noises coming from her mouth were muffled. "Oh good. You're awake." said a familiar but menacing voice. I looked up and spotted him again. He was wearing that same George W Bush mask that had occupied my nightmares for so many nights. He looked different though. His arms seemed bigger than I remember. His chest stretched the fabric of his muscle shirt. He had an arrogance to him like he knew he could over power both of us at once. He sauntered around, his black boots making a thud on the floor with each step. He flashed the same large knife he did the first time. "Remember my friend?" he said in a serious tone. "Anyone screams and he's going to join this party. Got me?" I nodded in agreement. He walked over to where my wife was wiggling against her restraints, and picked her up effortlessly. As he walked in front of me with her in his thick arms, I could see that not only was her mouth muffled with a sock, but he'd tied his necktie around her face, blindfolding her. Two more steps and he flopped her down on the couch. She was still clothed, but her navy blue blouse had a rip on the shoulder. He stood over her rolling her onto her back. The ties on her wrists appeared tight. Her skin was bright red where the ropes had been rubbing. Her head thrashed around from side to side, she was trying to work the blindfold off. He leaned in and touched her head. She froze. He slipped the blindfold off, letting it fall to the floor beside him. Her eyes were wide and her pupils dilated. She immediately looked to where I was. I tried to give her a reassuring look, letting her know it would be okay. The knife flashed between us. "I told you, I'd be back." he said with a chuckle as he reached down and pulled my chair closer to the couch, my knees ramming into the cushion. I kicked at the couch, nearly tipping my chair over. I saw the flash of chrome as the knife was whipped up to her neck. "Really? You want to play that game?" he warned. I relented. I couldn't see his eyes through the mask, but I felt that he wasn't fooling around. He used the knife to pick the sock out of my wife's mouth. She gasped for air as soon as it passed her lips. "You bastard. How could you do this to us again?" she growled. He didn't answer. He slowly moved the blade of the knife over my wife's blouse. He worked it in amongst the buttons and gave a couple quick jerks, cutting through the threads that attached them. "Please don't." she begged with a whimper. He continued to flick the knife down her blouse until each and every button was cut free, and the fabric started to relax. Setting the blade down for a second, he grabbed at her shirt pulling it from her shoulders and pitching it across the room. Just then, my heart broke. My wife sat not three feet from me nearly topless, dressed in a black lace bra, one I'd never seen before. I was heart broken, because it was just then that I realized that the new lingerie was intended for our special night. A silver flash caught my attention, as he sliced through the straps of her bra. Reaching for the clasp, he freed her breasts. She whimpered with her head bowed down. He grabbed her skirt and ripped the buttons holding it together at the back. Quickly pulling it away and throwing it into a growing pile of her clothes on the other side of the room. Her black panties matched the bra that she had been wearing. She continued to sob quietly, left to sit there on the couch, still tied. I felt helpless. I tried to give her looks that might comfort her, but they had little effect. "Now where'd he go?" I mumbled to myself. "What's that you tryin' to say?" I heard a voice from behind me. "Are you tryin' to tell her something?" said the voice as it walked around the room. I turned my head and saw him now standing fully nude beside the couch. "Are you tryin' to tell her to get ready for me?" he said with a cocky tone. I looked up and down his body. His muscles were definitely bigger than I remember. His abs toned like the informercials you see at 2 in the morning. His member was still soft, dangling from his groin. He walked slowly closer to my wife, the knife no longer in his hand, he reached down and untied her hands. "Reach up and touch my cock. I want you to feel it in your hands, soft like this." he ordered her. "And you. I want you to watch your wife make me hard, right before I fuck her" he motioned to me. Her hands didn't move. She defiantly left them right where they were, beside her naked legs on the couch. He grabbed her shoulder and gave it a shake. Her hands slowly rose up and gently she wrapped her fingers around his flaccid penis. She looked directly into my eyes as to say 'sorry' before she started squeezing and stroking this stranger's shaft. I could see it throb a few times as it grew in length and girth in her palms. She stroked it a little more as it started to stand out straight from his body. He put his hands on his hips and watched as she released her grip, instead dragging her fingers over his shaft, across the tip and down the underside to his shaved balls. He moaned and threw his head back, seemingly enjoying her expert touch. She grinned slyly and bit her bottom lip, all while my jealousy grew. Again, I tried to wiggle free from my binds, and again, my efforts were thwarted. But I did draw his attention. "Good thing I got you a front row seat, isn't it?" He asked almost chuckling in his boast. He reached down and grabbed my wife's head, pulling it forward. Her grin grew large, as she opened her mouth and waited for his shaft. Instead of closing her lips around it, as I've seen her done so many times, she bared her teeth and clamped down gently. "Whoa there, Sweetheart. None of that now." He warned. He took his hand from her head and grabbed the knife again, this time running it up my thigh. "You wouldn't want something to get cut off, now would you?" He asked while making a cutting motion across my crotch. "I didn't think so. Now. Where were we?" She looked at me before opening her soft lips wide and swallowing his shaft. He moaned. I knew the feeling. Her lips always felt fantastic. She was moving slowly at first, appearing unsure. Scared. But the more she did it, the more she seemed to enjoy it. I even heard a faint moan from her lips as she took in as much as she could handle. I was staring. It was hard to avoid a bulge growing in my pants as I once again pictured in my head what it would feel like. She was getting lost in it as well, her tongue circling over the tip, her fingers toying with his balls. Again another moan from his mouth. Quickly and quite suddenly he pushed her forehead back, his cock popping out of her mouth as she fell backwards onto the couch. She gasped loudly as her head fell back into the pillow. Without saying a word he yanked her panties over her thighs and down her legs, before pitching them across the room. He stretched one leg over the back of the couch, while putting the second across my lap on the chair I was sitting on. She didn't even look at me, staring only at his throbbing shaft that was inches from her. He paused for a second before sliding the whole length inside her. He let out a loud groan and froze when his cock disappeared. My wife's head rocked back and she bit her bottom lip as she reached around and grabbed his hips, controlling his thrusts. I couldn't believe it happened once, but it appears my shy demure wife was once again enjoying this! The look on her face I'd seen before. She'd forgotten she was a hostage in her own home, instead she'd become an active participant. He was slamming into her hard. Her breasts would bounce each time he would. He was moaning. My wife was moaning. I was moaning, with a large bulge now in my pants. His cock was slick with her juices as he'd nearly pull out all the way before slamming back in. He started to grip her legs and stretch them wider. His moans turning into grunts. A few more thrusts and he pulled his cock out, stroking it twice before shooting streams of his cum all over her stomach and shaved pussy. He milked it, making sure every last drop was on her. To my surprise, she rubbed it into her skin, before lifting a hand to her mouth for a taste. "You guys should probably smile. You're on camera." He said with a chuckle as he slid his pant up. I looked over, and sure enough, there was a camera sitting on the mantle of the fireplace. The little red record light was still flashing. "Who knows, this might end up on the internet. That wouldn't be a problem, would it?" He laughed again. As he was walking out, he turned back and suggested "keep your doors locked."