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So, my wife once told me I was a DILF. I had no clue what she was talking about. For those of you not in the know, it means "DAD I'D LIKE to FUCK." Admittedly I blushed. I'm middle-aged and not the young stud I used to be. But it turns out you can still be a stud and, once I learned what it meant, I showed it to my wife. 

 

Well, as I squirm helplessly bound and gagged in a dark closet in some crazy fucker's basement, I'm starting to regret the title. Obviously my XXXX likes DILFs. Just my luck.

 

***

 

It's Saturday afternoon. The wife's out shopping. Our kids who still live at home were out working or raising hell. I had been mowing the lawn, and finished to get a drink of water and wipe my sweaty brow. To be honest, I had been thinking about DILF-ing my wife last night and feeling kind of randy. She wouldn't be home for awhile, though. Hmmm, did I have time for a nice slow jerk-off session?

 

Apparently, no. Because, when I went into our bedroom to get my favorite cum rag on the way to get the lotion, I was surprised by a wiry masked man with a XXXX. He was just laying on our bed! Like it was his! Leveling the XXXX at me, he started to speak.

 

"Hey man. How goes it?"

 

I debated if I had time to get out of the room and run for help. He must have been a telepath because he drew the hammer of the revolver back with an ominous click and my stomach did a Twilight Zone Tower of Terror-type drop.

 

"Don't even think about it, dickhead. I've been watching your dad bod ass for a month now, waiting for the PERFECT time to meet you. I'm Slade. And I've got plans for you."

 

Plans?

 

***

The first part of his plan involved tying me up and gagging me. What a humiliating experience. I had a girlfriend in college who was into kinky stuff, and once insisted on tying me to the bed so she could ride my cock without interruptions. The fucking was phenomenal, but I hated the helpless feeling. Especially when she stuffed her panties in my mouth and taped my lips shut! I'm a dude, not some helpless prisoner. We never did that again. I hated it!

 

I'm not sure which purveyor of karma I pissed off, but I was having the experience again and even worse this time.

 

***

 

He tied my arms behind my back. He tied my legs together at the ankles. He stuffed a knotted bandana in my mouth, gagging me. HE STUFFED ME IN A CANVAS SACK, TIPPING ME OVER HIS SHOULDER LIKE SOME GODDAMN BUNDLE! And he carried me, squirming and trying to protest through my gag, to what I assume was the trunk of his car. It was the dead of Saturday afternoon, and the annoying neighbors who seemed to be in my face every other hour of every other day were suddenly nowhere to be found. So no one was answering my "mmmmpphhhs" into my gag. He actually SLAPPED MY WRIGGLING BUTT through my humiliating sack and told me to shut up or my sons would get the same treatment. I stopped wriggling.

 

***

 

Once we got in his garage and he lifted me out of the trunk, he unceremoniously dumped me out of the sack. OUCH. He stood me up, and I teetered on my bound feet as he tipped me over his shoulder again. This was getting ridiculous. I'd never felt so helpless! He carried me through his house, and down into his basement. We entered what looked like a utility closet. He set me on my feet again and, as I wobbled, he started undressing me! I felt like some sort of victim, as he exposed my pale belly and yanked my shorts down exposing my DILFy ass in my tighty whities. THE HELL?

 

"Now now, behave or I'm going to remove your underwear too and get to know your cock and your ass very, very intimately."

 

My buttcheeks involuntarily clenched at this threat. Sweet jesus, was this crazy going to XXXX me? He did begin exploring my pretty much unclothed body with his big searching hands. He tweaked my nipples, rubbed my belly, and smacked my ass a couple of times. I felt like every woman I had ever been rough with and swore to myself that I would become a more gentle and sensitive lover to my wife.

 

And then he showed me more rope? 

 

"Time to make sure you don't go away while I call my buddies."

 

He began to loop it around my already bound feet! And my bound hands! And then he knotted them together! He hogtied me! I rolled there, protesting into my gag and feeling my almost nude body rebelling. I had never been more scared. Buddies? Plans! He left me there, chuckling. I thrashed and moaned and groaned. And prayed.

 

Well, it turns out my best buddy Dan has a cousin who works in the fetish porn industry and had me XXXX as a gag. We're always pranking each other. When he walked in with his cousin, laughing at my struggling and humiliation, I wanted to kill him. They eventually untied me (after a few more spanks and a wedgie to seal my humiliation) and we had beers and I kept from killing the two of them. Oh, I will get him back like you wouldn't believe.

 

Don't tell anybody, but it turns out that bondage isn't so bad after all? Was it cuz' it was a guy tying and gagging and molesting me as opposed to a chick? Er, I'm going to go mow the rest of the lawn now.