Desert Chronicles

by Zephyr

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© Copyright 2018 - Zephyr - Used by permission

Storycodes: M/f; tease; bond; handcuffs; rope; strip; kiss; sex; climax; cons; X

Continues from

6: Consent

He stripped her clothes off her, tied her to his bed and had sex with her. But did he rape her?

Nel smiled to herself and gently tossed her long raven-black hair as she shut off her car outside Don's house. Actually, Don and his father, but she knew his father would not be home for another four or five hours. It was another blistering hot day in the desert, a Saturday, a little after 1. She had called Don to ask if he would be home so she could return his Monty Python DVDs. He had said yes and said he hoped she would be willing to stay longer than just to drop off the discs. She responded with a smile that she was pretty sure he could hear and told him that the two of them could probably find something to do with the time that wouldn't cost much money.

She sighed, smiled. Of course she would. The two of them had a different relationship than the others she'd been in. He was 19, she was 18 and a half, they were both recently graduated from high school. He worked as a paperwork person at the local college; she was a sales clerk at one of the fashion shops in the mall. They were not dating or boyfriend and girlfriend and neither of them had anyone else, but they had an understanding. If one of them wanted sex, they had, for about the last half-year, been able to call on the other and the two of them would handle it. Don had tried a little at first to make it a more permanent relationship but she had been in one of those recently and no thank you at this point. He was a good person for her: really sweet and caring, considerate and good in bed and he was happy to pop her bubble whenever she needed it and she was happy to keep him satisfied in that department in return.

She closed and locked the doors to her car as DVDs in hand she walked up the driveway. The blouse she had worn over the tank top was still on the passenger seat of her car, the light brown tank top was tight and she was braless underneath it, standing firm, nipples making out like large erasers through the fabric, which was her intent. She thought about rubbing them but the motion of the seemed to be bringing them to attention just fine. Tight blue jeans and flip-flops finished her casual outfit. She didn't know for sure what he wanted; they had different and oblique ways of asking each other for sexual encounters. Very rarely it was just "I want to, let's go." Usually they'd go out for a meal or go do something and then fall into each other's arms and pants at his place or at her apartment, whichever it turned out to be. Don opened the door for her just as she got there and ushered her inside.

Don was almost tall, wiry, a shock of brown hair and wire-rim glasses. Unlike her, a little extra weight around the belly but she didn't mind. It was just a little and that wasn't what she was about anyhow. He wore a white t-shirt and cutoffs. He closed the door behind her as she came in. She put the DVDs down on the kitchen table and wondered what was going to happen now. She'd be perfectly willing to have sex with him if he asked properly, but if it were up to her she could happily go either way. No, she corrected herself, if it didn't happen she was ok, but a good hard fuck and an orgasm would be a nice thing right about now.

"Thank you for bringing the DVDs by." He said as she stepped in the door. She expected more conversation but he had stopped. She looked up at him but his eyes weren't meeting hers. For a second she was tempted to remind him that her eyes were a bit higher but stifled a little laugh along with the thought. He had already admitted he was hungry and his favorite dish had just walked in the door, all five foot six and 120 pounds of it. If she hadn't meant to fan that particular flame she could have been more merciful not to come into his presence in tight jeans and braless in one of her tightest tank tops with nipples so hard and visible through it that he lost his train of thought. She did feel complimented; he obviously liked what he was seeing. He realized she had caught him and began. "Are you busy for the next hour or two?"

"I didn't have anything planned…" She agreed a little coyly. "What did you have in mind?" Silly question. She knew exactly what he had in mind. But it was the little game they usually played on the way to someone's bedsheets. She felt a familiar twitching and warmth start between her legs. She smiled. She noted that the air conditioner was running; this was a good thing. It was loud and right outside Don's bedroom window. She could have a screaming orgasm in that room and nobody outside would ever hear.

"Come back to my bedroom, I'll show you." He started back toward his bedroom. She followed.

This is the way it works, she thought as she followed him down the hall to his room. Don was an only child, his parents were divorced and he lived alone with his dad. His dad had a 5 to 8 sort of job, you had to be up at 5 to be in place by 8 AM and it was pretty much 8 (realistically six-thirty to 7) before he got home. Which meant they had about the next five hours completely safe and uninterrupted.

She'd known him for years, actually all four of high school. They were part of the same crowd. Back then she had been with Greg, who was horrifically kinky. Greg seemed to like her to be as naked as possible wherever they were. She had the body to get away with coming quite close to that but it had ended a huge explosive bang a little less than a year ago and she and Greg were now just friends. With the lack of time together even that was tapering off.

Don had, for the longest time, a crush on Cyndi. Cyndi was Nel's best friend. Cyndi had agreed that Don was nice and if things were different she'd be open to his advances but there were religious problems. She was of a certain belief and he wasn't, and it would never work at all with her parents, especially her mom. To be honesty she'd been raised her whole life and planned to find a guy with the same beliefs and the proper qualifications and then settle down and have about eight children together. Don just didn't fit.

She had tried to flush a few other females in his direction but nothing ever came of those efforts. He was a really sweet, solid guy who could really be happy with someone but no one ever fit him either. She in some ways had a crush on Don for years; there was a point when she had to decide who was going to catch her, Greg or Don, and it wasn’t a quick decision. She and Don had had sex once while she was with Greg, and even though it was under some weird circumstances and just a one-time thing she had a great time and had always thereafter wanted more. But she was with Greg so that was that. Except for one other wild weekend where she had been the sex slave to both Greg and Don, but that was another story.

Then she and Greg broke up, badly. She was hurting and didn't want the trouble of a relationship and all that crap any more. She just wanted the release of stress that came with some good sweaty sex every so often (seemed like once every week and a half or so). Not having found anyone else, Don was still available and she liked him, but dropping less and less subtle hints never seemed to get anywhere. Until she realized that all the other tries with other girls had failed because he really did have a blind spot there and had no clue what was really being said. So she cashed in a favor from Greg and had him tie her up stark naked and spread eagle in the back of his truck (It had a camper shell, tinted windows except in back, and really soft carpeting) -- she wasn't a stranger to being in that location and position anyway -- and had Greg drive up to Don's house, show him her condition, tell him that she didn't have to be home until the next day and that she pretty much demanded he drive up into the desert mountains well out of town and properly ravish her. And Greg handed him the keys and walked away. Don definitely got that message loud and clear and fulfilled that request wonderfully.

They walked into his bedroom. She noted it was his normal not-quite picked up but what she saw on his bed alarmed her. Two sets of handcuffs, one cuff in each closed around each outer edge of his headboard, the other half of each open on the bed. As she drew in a breath she saw ropes tied to the outer edges of his footboard with loops on the bed that would be about right for her ankles. She started to blurt out a protest when things got completely crazy.

Faster than she could react, Don had turned around, grabbed her tank top at her hips with both hands, and had pulled it up over her head and dropped it onto the carpeting. She was still recovering from what she saw and the shock of suddenly being half naked as he pulled her onto the bed and stretched one wrist up toward a waiting handcuff. She started to pull away and resist but he was stronger and too close and a second later she felt and heard the clicks as it ratcheted down around her wrist. With his two hands and leverage against her one it was a very short time before her other wrist was locked in the other cuff.

Her head was reeling. What the hell, she thought as still sitting on her waist he reached back and slipped each rope loop over the corresponding ankle. Then shifting a little he unbuttoned and unzipped her jeans.

For a second she was mad, as he adjusted the ropes on her ankles and started playing with her jeans. Hell, all he would have had to do was french kiss her for about five minutes and they both knew she'd be putty in his hands and in his bed. She caught herself, they had a weird relationship, and this was on the edge but not beyond the pale for it. Maybe. She'd need to think about that one. She was going to start yelling but it hit her that she didn't feel in any danger at all. She trusted him and felt that even more than to preserve the relationship, it wasn't in his personality to really hold her here and do this to her if she really objected. He had straddled her again and was firmly squeezing and massaging her breasts. She was helpless to prevent but it felt good like it always did and he always enjoyed doing it.

She didn't like having her top ripped off her and being forcibly tied to his bed. She noted she'd have to have a talk with him about limits and the concept of foreplay, but she had to admit that if he had shown this to her and asked her permission, she'd have said yes and allowed herself to be tied to the bed willingly. He continued to massage her breasts. It continued to feel good.

Don stopped massaging her and climbed off her. Off came his shirt, his shorts and underwear and he had the raging hard on she had seen many times before. He slipped the loop off one of her ankles and worked her jeans down and off it. She refered to them as one of her pairs of "10 minute jeans", they were so tight it took a full ten minutes to get them on. They didn't come off much faster but Don was motivated and with three limbs still tied Nel thought she wasn't really part of the decision cycle anyways. But they eventually slipped off, along with the panties underneath them. The loose, now bare ankle was retied and the one remaining limb was freed long enough to remove the jeans and panties completely before being returned to its former state, and now she lay quite helpless, fully naked, and spread wide on the bed of someone with a raging hard-on and time to use it. And she knew with certainty that use it he would.

As he climbed on top of her, she thought that maybe this is just fair play, or karma catching up with her. About a month ago she had called him early on a Friday, asked him if he'd be willing to spend the night at her place. One thing though, she was in the mood to be the teasing bitch from hell and if he came over she was going to make him want to come so bad he would feel like he would explode, maybe even all night if she could. But before the night was over she'd get out of the way and give him release. Silly man, he agreed.

After a nice dinner out with her in a thin and very short dress (yes, showing the finer points of your chest that time too as she often did) she took him to her apartment which she had to herself. As long as they didn't yell things were ok and he knew better than to yell. She had ropes there too, on her headboard, she told him that she would use them later on when she started to worry that if she didn't restrain him he would interfere, and he didn't get to interfere, just let her have fun with him until they saw sunlight and then she would get him off.

So there he lay, naked on her bed while she sucked on him and licked him like a lollipop and ran her fingers and her tongue through his pubic hair. When she thought he was getting close to coming, she would stop and kiss and run her fingers through his chest hair or lay beside him to have no contact with him down there, french kiss some with him, or play with herself in front of him, well, yes, getting a little theatrical about it (but that was part of the fun) until he had come back down. He started groaning after about forty-five minutes. Around eleven he was getting agitated enough that she put the ropes on his wrists and then went right back to work on that straining, rock-hard penis of his. She was enjoying, in a perverse way his discomfort, his groans and begging when she would abruptly stop when he was so close, only to be given again the assurance that he wouldn't leave the house without solving that problem entirely; oh yes she was looking forward to that too.

But she pulled her wickedest trick of the night: She was horribly wet anyway and she climbed on top of him and slid effortlessly down his hard cock. He was groaning with happiness as she went up and down on him six or eight slow, deliberate times, him thinking she was going to end her torture. He almost had a heart attack when she climbed off of him, announced that it was still way too early, the sun was nowhere near rising, and went back to playing with his chest while he cooled back down yet agonizingly again. It made a useful taunt, threatening to ride him like that again if he didn't behave. All in all he was being really good about it but she was starting to get sleepy, so one time after sucking on him nearly to an orgasm instead of going back to his cock she reached up and slipped his wrists out of the rope and threw the rope across the room so it could not be used on her.

He was electric and energetic. She wasn't fighting. In an instant he had her flat on her back on the bed, his weight on top of her, her wrists pinned beside her head. He slammed into her so hard it hurt. She winced, but she supposed she had that coming. It took about ten strokes and with a cry of joy she felt him spasming more powerfully than anyone had ever done inside of her. She just lay still and let it happen, quite pleased with herself. She had created this storm; she'd had her fun, now she got to ride it out.


When he finally calmed down he asked her if she wanted something too. He was considerate that way and would get her off with his hands if he came first but he was usually pretty careful to not come first. She assured him she had all the fun she wanted already and just wanted to go to sleep. True to form, ten minutes after that he was snoring gently beside her, snuggling her in his arms. It didn't take much for her to join him.

Maybe he saw this as payback. Lots of guys, she understood, had fantasies of doing things like this. Maybe he saw this as fair trade for what she'd done to him that night. A thought flickered across her mind -- after that night maybe she deserved this. As he climbed between her legs she reminded herself that she came over her intentionally waving a red flag in front of a raging bull and honestly, if he had asked her permission to do exactly this, she already concluded, she would have given it.

He lay fully on top of her and began to french kiss her, one of her favorite things. She responded, giving him the back and forth play, and why not? She wasn't going anywhere and didn't want to piss off the person whose bed she was tied to or ruin his scene. Besides, she liked it.

He stopped and she could tell he was getting ready to mount her. She wasn't wet enough for that. "Lube" she said quietly. Don reached into his headboard, got a tube out, and fixed them both up properly. Then he resumed his positioning. She could feel the tip of his cock right outside her vagina; there was enough lube all around now, all he needed to do was to push in. He stopped though, looked her in the face for a second. She sighed, still tied and spread to the bed and with his hard cock brushing her vagina. She smiled a little, more a reaction to being trapped here and him staring at her than any sort of message, more "Well, we're here, now what?" He thrust into her with a grunt, she felt the familiar feeling of his cock parting her, filling up her channel, Normally this was a really pleasant feeling, but this time it was just there. Just what it was. As he moved in and out of her she was unhappy at the situation, she’d already been tied up and handcuffed enough for several lifetimes but they were already this far down the line. She felt she could stop him, but there would be a cost between the two of them, and she really didn't want to hurt him. So she bit her tongue except to fake a moan every so often to encourage him.

This wasn't how it worked, though. She had been tied up by Greg too many times to count. And when Greg tied her up, it was to play with her and to do to her more or less what she did to Don last month. Greg would work on her until he thought she was close, and he was a pretty good judge of that after so long, and then he would stop and let her calm down and do pleasant but non-contributing-to-the-goal activities like playing with her breasts or nibbling on her neck and ears or french kissing her. The game was how many times could he get her close, and how close could he get her without pushing her over. And her part of the game was to try to trick him into not stopping and getting her off. Greg's personal best was four and a half hours. She wanted to kill him by the end of that night but after that explosion of an orgasm she settled for just going to sleep.


She was useless in this, she was nothing here, just something for him to masturbate with and then come in. But she could do it for him, would let it happen for him. If he had asked for a back rub, she would have done that without hesitating. She wondered how different this was in principle. He wanted something she could provide, and she was providing it, using her body to comfort him. Maybe she should think of this as not a back rub, but a.. well, her body was being used to rub a certain part of his, which was giving him great pleasure. She looked up at the look on his face, eyes closed tightly as he ran firmly and steadily in and out of her, he was having a great time. Nel would have liked it much more if that were true of them both.


She wondered while he worked, what if she wanted to cry rape? What would she tell the police? It was perfectly true and reasonably well known that the two of them had sex all the time. Had she screamed or even struggled, really? She'd been in handcuffs enough to know what kind of bruises your wrists got when you struggled in them and what she wore at work was pretty much the store's sort of clothing, flashy and flirty, rarely with sleeves, and it'd be damn near impossible to justify a long-sleeved blouse as hot as it was this time of year. For her own sake, she wasn't going to thrash around any. She wondered if Don had counted on that.

He wasn't hurting her. If she had been engaged in the event she figured she'd be well on the way to her own orgasm. Beyond restraining her he had not hurt her. He had put on lube when she asked, had spent some time with her kissing and hadn't just drove right into her without preamble.

She was on the pill and continued to take them, so she obviously expected to be having sex. Hell, this was tame compared with some of the things she and Greg had done and Don knew it too. She didn't know how much Don knew of that, but he has seen it that one weekend, how her past with Greg had involved her tied up, naked, often out in the middle of the desert or in his truck, and they had done everything the two of them had dreamed of at least once. If her history were fully known, it might be pretty hard to convince people this just wasn't more of the same. But it wasn't and she knew it all the way down to her core.


She felt Don tense up and drive deep inside her and stop, felt him throb five, six times as he emptied himself into her. She just bit her lip, she was glad that it should be over now, he should be over whatever had gotten into him and he would go back to being the person she was really, really fond of. He held position with his eyes closed, propped up on his elbows above her, and then after a moment or two he opened his eyes and Don, a bit shy, was back.

He brushed some of the hair away that had gathered around her face. "You ok? Want me to do you now?"


She rattled her wrists. All she really wanted to do was to get dressed and leave, but decided to play it cool, especially while she was still tied wrists and ankles on the bed. "No, I'm fine. I do need to get going though, have to do laundry at home." He got a sort of hurt look on his face; she didn't care. But he did immediately pull the loops off her ankles, found the key and soon she was completely free and sitting up on the bed, rubbing her undamaged wrists. Don gathered her various pieces of clothing from around the room and brought them to her. She put them on in silence, smiling at him every once in a while to try to placate him while he sat quietly watching from his desk chair.


She slipped on her flip-flops and tried to put on a cheerful air. All her acting experience helped. She gave him a peck on the cheek, told him she would talk with him later, and was gone out the door. As she walked away and climbed into her car, she didn't know if, or how much their relationship had just changed, or how she really felt. Had she just been raped?


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