The Daily Chores - Sex Stories

The Daily Chores

You are busy vacuuming and don’t hear my keys opening the front door of our house. Nor do you hear it close behind. It may be the vacuum or it may be the music playing through your ear plugs, doesn't matter to me. I am going to have you right then and there. I am going to have my way and there was nothing you are going to do to stop me. Standing in the foyer, I notice your outfit. You are dressed to clean, not so much to entice. Through your form fitting tank top it is obvious you are braless. Your gym shorts show no evidence of panties. Your cascading red hair is flowing over your neck and shoulders. It is the wiggle of your ass that quickly catches my attention as you step forward and back with the vacuum. Damn, you keep yourself fit. I want to believe it’s for me, but I am not going to fool myself. Pausing until you are facing away from the mirror, I creep up and slip one of three bandannas from my rear pocket. Waiting until you step forward, I step up behind you, reach around with my left arm and grasp you tightly to my body. I quickly stifle your yelp by stuffing the bandanna in your open mouth. I immediately grasp your arms at the elbows and hold you motionless. Using my teeth, I remove the ear plug from your right ear. “Shhh, little one,” I whisper in your ear. “Don’t fight and you’ll be the better for it.” You begin trying to get away, but a quick growl in your ear stops you dead in your tracks. I sense you want to turn and face me, but you remain immobile. Not ...

... knowing who is there; not knowing what is going to happen; not knowing is disrupting your happy little day. You want to kick and run, but the grip on your arms reminds you of my strength. It is a form of sensory deprivation you are experiencing; it is almost as if you have no control. You do, you just do not realize it, yet. “I’ve been watching you,” I breathe huskily, as I reach down and shut off the vacuum. “You’re all alone this afternoon, aren’t you?” You falter ever so slightly. Should you answer or should you stay quiet. It’s a dilemma you have never been in before. “It’s alright, my sweet. I’m not here to hurt you.” Running my hands down your arms to your hands, I bring them behind you. Using a second bandanna from my pocket, I secure your wrists behind your back. Once done, I use a third bandanna to cover your eyes. You try hard to be brave, but I smell the fear in you. Guiding you to the couch, I turn you so you can sit. Supporting you, I lower you down to the cushions and position you in the middle. I reach to your ears and remove the remaining plug from your left ear. Leaning close, I feel the trepidation in your breathing. I gather the ear plugs, wiring, and reach into your waistband to remove your iPod and lay them on the table. Standing up, I look down on you. Such a beauty, your red hair is now spilling over your breasts, framing the cleavage established by the snug fitting tank top. Your breathing is rapid, surely due to the apprehension of your situation. I can see ...