{"loaderData":{"4":{"story":{"id":"3bc0bfb9-2cb0-4c84-bffe-782fb19b15d4","seriesId":null,"seriesName":null,"currentUserId":"00000000-0000-0000-0000-000000000000","added":"2024-09-08T00:38:36.691Z","title":"Betrayed By Your Accomplice (bondage story)","slug":"betrayed-by-your-accomplice-bondage-story","shortId":"Zz3IueZi","authorNote":null,"disclaimer":"Not to be reproduced without permission.","type":"Short","paidUrl":null,"synopsis":"A pretty burglar is betrayed and tied up by her partner.","partCount":1,"parts":[{"partId":"50ac60f3-76a0-4247-b21f-7b66dca654c3","title":null,"summary":"This story - written for day 14 of Kinktober 2023 - contains bondage, humiliation, and sexual themes","wordCount":1826,"readTime":9,"number":1,"state":"Published"}],"currentPart":1,"contentTitle":"Chapter 1","content":"

This story - written for day 14 of Kinktober 2023 - contains bondage, humiliation, and sexual themes. Reader discretion is advised.

With a little squeak of extra effort, you manage to crowbar open the window, and look over in triumph at your accomplice. He shrugs his shoulders, as if to say, what do you want, a medal? You shake your head in frustration. What an annoying man he is.

To be honest, he's been irritating you from the start. Why, for example, did he insist on you wearing this ultra-tight black PVC catsuit? That's what burglars wear, he said. But when you turned up for the job, you saw that he was wearing a black sweater and dark jeans. He probably thinks women are sex objects for men's pleasure. Or maybe he just likes to see your lovely breasts and bum squeezed into the figure-hugging material - and no wonder, considering how beautiful you are.

You slip through the window, no doubt giving your accomplice - his name is Doug, by the way - an eyeful of your pert ass. Then you drop soundlessly into the room and look around for danger. You're a professional.

\"There's no need to worry, sweetheart,\" Doug laughs as he follows you in more casually. \"I made sure there's no one here. You look good on your knees, but you might as well get up.\"

You scowl. He's been like this the whole time.

Flashlights flicking from side to side, the two of you make your way through the darkened house. You're walking carefully, partly because you're worried about being heard, and partly because Doug persuaded you to wear a pair of towering high-heeled black leather boots and it's difficult to keep your balance. But he's swaggering along without a care in the world. You're not sure why he's so bold, so utterly fearless, and part of you finds that side of his personality appealing. But then you remember how badly he treats you and how much you hate him.

Doug, who did the research for this job and appears to know the layout of the house like the back of his hand, leads you to the library, an enormous room that extends upwards into the second floor. There must be 5,000 books in here, and you're momentarily distracted by envy. You'd love a place like this.

\"If you can tear yourself away from the library for just a moment, bookworm,\" Doug says, sneering, \"I'd appreciate your help getting into the safe.\"

You frown at his rudeness, but do as you're told nonetheless, kneeling down in front of the safe - which isn't easy in this outfit, the PVC creaking and stretching across your firm, lithe body - and examining its mechanism.

\"Easy,\" you say, unable to stop yourself from looking at Doug for approval, like a schoolgirl who's done her homework. \"I can have this open in five minutes.\"

\"You'll have it open in three, or I'll spank you,\" he laughs, strolling off to look at the books he mocked you for liking. God, you hate him.

Fortunately, you're an exceptional cracker, and the door soon swings open. Doug is instantly at your side, reaching past you rudely to grab the bundle of documents inside. He's preoccupied with the papers, and doesn't seem aware of how close you are, but you're annoyed to realise that being pressed against his muscular body is turning you on. Just a little, but enough to be distracting.

\"Yes... yes, this is what we need,\" he says eventually. \"This will make me a very rich man.\"

You flash him a smile, wondering if he might start treating you better now he has what he wants.

\"And me a very rich woman,\" you remind him.

\"You're not a woman, you're a slip of a girl. And you don't need money. You can just ask your boyfriends to buy you a present.\"

\"My love life is none of your business!\" you cry, outraged. \"And we agreed to split the money.\"

\"I've decided to renegotiate.\"

Your stomach lurches with shock as you notice the revolver in his hand. You know he wasn't carrying a gun before. It must have been in the safe.

\"Be a good girl, and this doesn't need to turn ugly. I don't want to hurt you.\"

\"The hell you don't! What do you want to do?\"

\"Oh, nothing much. I thought I might tie you up.\"

\"Tie me up?! Why?\"

Doug sighs.

\"Well obviously I'm not going to pay you your fair share. You'd only waste it on shoes, or jewellery, or a silly PVC catsuit.\"

\"You told me to wear this!\"

\"And you did exactly what you were told. What a delightfully obedient little wench you are.\"

You're speechless with fury. That rotten, slimy, no-good, sexist -

\"Which is how I know you're going to be obedient now. Starting with crossing your wrists behind your back.\"

\"And what if I say no?\"

\"I don't think you're the type of girl to say no,\" he laughs. \"But if you insist, I will reluctantly shoot you in your pretty little head and leave your body here for the police to find. Don't worry, there's nobody close enough to hear.\"

You look at the gun, then back at Doug's face. He's serious. You knew he was a bastard, but you never dreamed he'd betray you like this.

\"Okay, let's say I let you tie me up. What next?\"

\"I just need you out of the way long enough for me to skip town with the money. I'll let one of your boyfriends know where to find you. You'll be bound and helpless for a couple of hours, tops.\"

You bite your lip, trying to think.

\"Fine,\" you say, turning away from him and crossing your wrists behind your back. Then you blush, remembering his description of you: a delightfully obedient little wench. That's exactly what you are. \"Tie me up if it makes you happy. But I'll get my revenge on you eventually, Doug.\"

\"I look forward to seeing you try.\"

You feel his strong hands on your wrists as he wraps thin cord around them, looping, cinching, and knotting tightly. You test the cords and are forced to admit that the man knows his bondage: you're not escaping without help.

\"Comfortable?\" he smirks.

\"Not really, no.\"

\"Well, maybe you'll feel better once I've loosened your clothing a little.\"

Ignoring your protests, he pulls the zip of your catsuit down to your waist, exposing your lovely tits.

\"There, that's better,\" he says. \"A pretty girl like you should be proud to show off your body. Now let's add a few more ropes.\"

With practised ease, he binds your elbows together, then creates a rope harness around your chest and shoulders, looping snugly above, below and between your pert breasts. You squirm ineffectually, moaning with discomfort. The ropes are incredibly tight.

\"Is this really necessary?\"

\"To keep you a helpless captive? Probably not! But I like the way it looks. And your role from now on is mainly decorative. Talking of which, prisoners don't need to speak.\"

\"Wait, you don't need to gmmmpphhh!\"

Doug shoves a knotted cloth between your lips, then yanks it back and ties it tightly behind your head. As you try to let him know exactly what you think of this treatment, you quickly discover that the gag is extremely effective, muffling any attempts at speech and turning them into comical mewls and mmphhs.

\"Mnn nnnn'ph nmmn phn gng mm!\" you protest.

\"Perhaps not, but the look on your face is just adorable, sweetheart! Being gagged must be fantastically humiliating for a chatty young lady like you. You were already physically helpless, but now you're not even allowed to speak.\"

\"Gnnnnmnph!\"

\"I'm sure that was a very interesting comment, darling. Now let's finish trussing you up, and I can get the heck out of here.\"

Producing yet more rope, Doug binds your ankles together, then your knees, and then your thighs, turning your shapely legs into a single useless limb. Then he unceremoniously manhandles you into a prone position face down on the carpet.

\"Mmhnph nrm ymnn dnnnng phn mm?\"

\"This is called a hogtie, sweet cheeks. An excellent way of roping up a filly so she can't cause any more trouble.\"

He uses a final length of rope to connect your ankle bonds to your chest harness, yanking and straining until your body is bowed back painfully, then knotting off the rope with deft skill.

\"I bet a clever girl like you can get out of that easily, can't you?\" he says mockingly. \"Why don't you show me your escapology skills?\"

You don't want to give him the satisfaction... but then again, part of you is desperate to impress him. So you squirm and wriggle and thrash, furiously trying to find some weakness in your bonds. After five minutes you're exhausted and exactly as helplessly restrained as before, while Doug is smiling from ear to ear.

\"I thought as much. You're not going anywhere, are you? Which means it's time for your photo shoot.\"

You mewl in dismay as he whips out his phone and takes dozens of photos, making sure to get plenty of shots of your tits, and bum, and blushing, cruelly gagged face.

\"That's it! A lovely humiliated captive, tightly trussed up and gagged. What a nice present for the police.\"

\"Pnmncm?!\"

\"Of course! You didn't believe me before, did you? That was very silly of you, wasn't it? You really are a dumb bimbo.\"

You thrash against your bonds, in deadly earnest this time, but make no more progress than before: the cords are cinched so tight that you wouldn't escape them if you had a week to struggle. You're shocked by the depth of his betrayal.

\"There's really no point, darling. You're completely and utterly helpless. You might as well have a nice rest while you wait for the police to find you. Which I suppose will be very, very humiliating.\"

He chuckles, fiddling with his phone.

\"I've just sent the photos to the police, together with your name and where to find you, and details of what we stole. Enjoy prison, dumbo.\"

He spanks you hard on your perky, PVC-clad bum, and laughs at your outraged squeaks of protest.

\"By the way, I sent the photos to the papers as well, just for fun. And I know a few websites where I can post them. Just so everyone can enjoy your bound humiliation as much as I have.\"

\"Pmmnphm! Mmph mm gn!\"

\"Oh babe, surely you've got the message by now? There are two types of people in this world: the ones who play, and the ones who get played. You're the second kind. Now, if you're all set, I'd better be off. Bye!\"

Doug strolls off, as unhurried and unworried as ever, while you wiggle and squirm and moan into your gag. He was right: you're utterly helpless, a tightly wrapped parcel ready for the police to pick up at their convenience. That awful man betrayed you, exposed you, trussed you up, gagged you thoroughly, and left you as a helpless and humiliated present for the police. But all you can think about is how masterfully he handled the situation, and how much you're looking forward to your next meeting... once you can get out of jail.

FIN

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