Black Pegs in Brown Holes (F/FM)

[zerg rush]

Chapter one


Nisha opened the front door to her large three story terrace house and staggered inside, exhausted. A short fat Indian woman, she had decided to enter a marathon, pretty much on a whim. Training was going well, and she’d just finished a 15 mile run. It was an extremely hot day in the middle of June, and she’d run for nearly three hours in the scorching heat. She was a sweaty mess, her light t-shirt and shorts completely soaked, a far darker colour than when she’d left. What she needed was a nice cup of tea, and a long soak in the bath.

Nisha settled down on an armchair with her tea. She hadn’t changed, or taken her trainers off. All she wanted was to sit down and come down from her long run. She had drunk half of her tea, before she was rudely interrupted by a knock at the door. She forced herself off the chair, slowly walked to the door, and opened it. On the other side was a tall, athletic woman, dressed in full motorcycling gear and helmet. On her back was a large backpack. In her hand was a pistol.

“Can I hel…” Nisha stopped speaking as she noticed the gun, the colour draining from her face in terror.
“Shut up, and put your hands on your head” the gunwoman spoke, with a slight east European accent.
“Wh.Wh.Wh” Nisha stuttered, terrified out of her mind.
“I said shut up, cunt. You no speakee English”
Nisha backed up slowly as the gunwoman advanced. Once inside the house, the gunwoman closed the door behind her.
“Lead me to the lounge. Hands stay on head. No talking”
Nisha complied. The gunwoman followed a safe distance behind, in case Nisha did something unexpected.
“Draw the curtains”
“How can I draw the curtains with my hands on my head?”
“I’m not in the mood for games cunt. Do what I say or I make a mess. Understand?”
Nisha nodded at the gunwoman, and closed the curtains, preventing anyone from peering in and witnessing what was to come. She advanced on poor Nisha, who was shaking in fear. With the gun in one hand, her free hand frisked Nisha, finding her phone, which she put in a pocket, but nothing else of value.
“Give me your house keys and car keys”
Nisha obeyed her orders as best she could. “S…S…Sorry miss. I c…c…an’t d..d..drive” she stammered as she handed over the front door keys.
The intruder pocketed the keys, and uttered a word that made Nisha wince.
“Strip”
“Strip?”
“Strip”
Nisha felt very uncomfortable. No woman had ever seen her naked except her mother. She slowly peeled off her t-shirt, which clung to her body with the sweat from earlier. She started to take off her trainers when the intruder noticed something.
“What’s that smell?”
“I’ve been on a long run”
“Your size suggests otherwise”
“I HAVE been on a run”
“Is that…your feet?
“…Probably…”
“Don’t you wash after you work out?”
“I was about to till someone came round and stuck a gun in my face”
“No mouthing off, cunt.” Nisha finished untying her trainers. “Your shoes are even worse than your feet”
“I know. My husband makes me leave them outside” replied Nisha. Even as they were speaking, her foul, repulsive smelling trainers were slowing making the room smell faintly of her sweaty, stinking, long distance running, smelly feet. She pulled down her clammy shorts, revealing her black panties, which were just as sweaty and nasty as her other clothes.
“Underwear too”
“Really?”
“Yes really. Naked people make less trouble”
Nisha doubted this, but had no say in the matter. She unhooked her bra, peeled off her wet panties, and sat down to take off her socks. They were light yellow before her run, but they were so soaked in sweat that they had become a dark yellowy brown colour. The sweat had turned them slightly translucent, exposing her baby blue toenails.
“They feel so wet”
“They look wet”
Nisha’s feet and socks were so sweaty they were sticking to each other slightly. She peeled them off her feet, her socks turning inside out because of how wet and sticky they were. The gunwoman took the socks, and pulled out a see-though, re-sealable plastic bag from her backpack. “I could literally squeeze the sweat from these” said the intruder as she held the socks, before sealing them in the bag and putting them in her backpack.

Nisha was now as naked as the day she was born. The sweat was shiny on her light brown skin, her hair matted. Her small, firm breasts and a small strip of short pubic hair were exposed to the gunwoman, who had kept the gun pointing at Nisha at all times. “Now, do exactly as I say, and let me move your body how I want.” She dropped her backpack on the floor, and opened it with her free hand. Nisha looked in the open backpack, and wished she hadn’t. Inside was a huge amount of thin, white nylon rope, two massive rolls of black gorilla tape, a roll of saran wrap, two ball gags and a pair of scissors.

The gunwoman forced both of Nisha’s arms high up behind her back in a reverse prayer. With her free hand, a coil of rope was tied round her delicate wrists, holding them there. This was far from tight, but gave the burglar time to put her gun away before tying it properly. With both hands now available, she removed the gold rings from Nisha’s fingers, retrieved the gorilla tape, and wrapped Nisha’s hands together above the rope, forcing her to maintain the reverse prayer. The super strong adhesive tape was slowly wrapped tightly 18 times, taping her fingers and thumbs together, making sure there was no way to sweat off the gorilla tape, even with the weather as unbearably hot as it was. It was wrapped so tightly, the form of all her individual fingers and thumbs could be seen, despite the 18 layers.
“Is this really necessary?”
“Yes. We don’t want you getting loose while I take your things”
“Can’t you just tie my wrists behind my back?”
“They are behind your back”
“I meant normally. This is painful.” The intruder untied her quickly tied rope and did the job properly, now she didn’t need to have her gun pointed at Nisha. It was wrapped 8 times round her wrists, crushing her wrists together and making her bones rub painfully. It only got more painful when the rope was cinched, going twice vertically before being knotted off. The rope was wrapped in gorilla tape, ensuring it would stay in place.

“It’s too tight”
“It’s supposed to be tight, so you can’t untie yourself. That’s why I use non slip rope”
Rope was used to anchor Nisha’s arms to her body, below and above her breasts, both behind and in front of her forearms, making a strict, tight breast harness. More rope went from her wrists, round her neck, and back down to her wrists. It would choke her slightly if she tried pulling her wrists away from her back, but not if they stayed still.
“Take me to your dirty laundry”
“Why do you want to go there?”
The gun was removed from her pocket.
“OK OK OK. No need for that. Follow me.”
Nisha led the intruder upstairs, making sweaty footprints on the wooden flooring, to a basket in one of the bathrooms. She went over to have a rummage, ignoring everything that wasn’t underwear. All the underwear was examined by the intruder’s hands as she searched. She settled for a pair of large lilac socks. They were chosen as they felt the wettest. The intruder smelt them, and they did not disappoint. They were just as sweaty and stinky as they felt.
“I wore those for my run two days ago. Why are you collecting my socks?”
“Reasons. Do you have any thicker socks?” The socks were put in a pocket for later.
“Yeah. I have these really cosy woolly socks for winter. Why?
“You want to be gagged with clean socks or your foul putrid ones?”
“Clean. Definitely clean. I’ll take you to them.” Nisha almost ran out of the bathroom to the main bedroom, so desperate was she not to be gagged with her running socks.
“In that drawer” said Nisha, pointing with her nose. The burglar opened the drawer in question. Those socks were huge and thick. They would really keep someone’s feet warm. Or really keep someone quiet. She also took a pair of opaque pantyhose to use later. Carrying her loot, the burglar marched Nisha downstairs.
“Where are we going?”
“To the basement”
“It’s dirty down there. Can I at least have something on my feet?”
“Fiiine”
They stopped off in the lounge. “Put your slippers on”
Nisha’s slippers were furry and well worn. There were dirty marks on the inside where her feet had been, wearing away at the insoles. She slipped her stinky, sweaty feet in them, and she was led to the basement. As she was putting her slippers on, the burglar opened the plastic bag from earlier, and put the super sweaty lilac socks in there as well with the super sweaty yellow ones.
“I have some questions. Who else lives here?”
“Just me and my husband”
“Are you sure? If I see anyone else, I’ll shoot them”
“Yes. Definitely just us two”
“What time does he get home from work?”
“Half 5”
The burglar checked her watch. It was 4:47. Shit, she thought to herself. It wasn’t the first time she’d robbed someone. She always carried enough material to tie up multiple people, just in case. But there wasn’t enough time to take everything worth taking before the husband came home. She had plans, but she now had to change them.
She removed the yellow socks from the bag, and cut the toe ends off, before placing them back in the bag.
“Why did you do that?”
“Reasons. Now take me to the basement”
Nisha led the burglar through a door, and down a flight of stairs, to a dingy room. This basement was clearly used as a storage room. It looked like it hadn’t been cleaned for a while. The burglar turned on the light. The room was a windowless void, so perfect for keeping people tied up and out of the way. The air was thick with a musky smell.

“This is starting to hurt. How long will you keep me like this?”
“Don’t know. Stand against that support post”
Nisha walked over to a thick metal pole, integral of the structure of the basement. The burglar positioned Nisha’s back firmly against the posts, and began roping her to it. Ropes were tied, securing her to the pole at her ankles, waist and chest, not as secure as the reverse prayer of breast harness. Her legs weren’t tied together first, which helped her maintain her balance. Maybe she likes me, so she’s going easy on me, Nisha thought.
“I’m going to have a look round the house, but I need you to stay quiet. Open wide.”
The intruder went into the plastic bag and took out the nasty yellow running socks from before; minus the toe ends she’d removed. They were still extremely wet and sweaty, dripping awful foot sweat water in her as she held them. Putting them in the plastic bag meant they couldn’t air out keeping their foulness.
“Wait, those arrrghhmmmm” said Nisha as one of forced in her mouth. She almost gagged at the awful, putrid taste. The sweat coated her tongue instantly, and dribbled down her throat. It was easily the most disgusting thing she had ever had in her mouth. She tried spitting out the sweat soaked sock, but the burglar forced the second one in. This required more effort, as Nisha was fighting it, and there wasn’t much room in her mouth. Her tongue searched desperately for something that wasn’t her nasty, sweaty socks, her taste buds burning and screaming in agony at this violent assault. But there was no escape. After a bit more pushing, both of those monstrously sweaty stinky socks were wedged behind Nisha’s teeth. Her cheeks bulged painfully, like a hamster storing food in its pouches. “Wmm Thmm Smm” cried Nisha into her packed mouth, feeling betrayed. The socks did a very good job of keeping her voice to a minimum. She tried using her tongue to force the socks out, put the salty, wringing wet socks were so dense, they wouldn’t move at all. It was pinned down, forced to endure the taste of a 3 hour run in extreme heat.
The burglar went into the backpack, pulling out one of the ball gags. Nisha shook her head. “Nmm. Umm Tmm Bmm. Umm Wmm Fmm.” Nisha was right. She tried and tried, forcing the ball gag behind Nisha’s teeth with the socks, but her mouth was too small. Every time the ball got to a certain point, she started making gurgling choking noises. The burglar gave up on the ball gag, to Nisha’s relief, and took out the pair of pantyhose. This was used to cleave gag her. The crotch end was pushed behind Nisha’s teeth, and the leg ends were crossed behind her head as tightly as possible. The pantyhose legs were crossed again behind her teeth, behind the back of her head, before finally being knotted brutally tightly behind her teeth. The excess feet ends were forced into Nisha’s wide open mouth. The cleave gag was extremely unforgiving, digging deep into her cheeks. Nisha thought this was the end of her gag. The nasty socks rendered her almost mute.

The intruder thought differently. She wanted a silent captive, unable to let anyone know she was there. She picked up the gorilla tape, and stuck an end on her cheeks. Round and round the tape went, reinforcing the pantyhose cleave gag. 10 brutal wraps went between her teeth, pushing the disgusting stuffing deeper in her mouth. Each layer was smoothed down and pressed tightly, for maximum silencing. “Hmmm. Hmm” cried Nisha through the thick, foul packing, but there was no way anyone would have heard other than the burglar. The extra sticky, extra strong gorilla tape was wrapped vertically, from under her jaw up to the top of her head, and back round. The burglar showed no mercy, wrapping as brutally tightly as she could. 15 layers, Nisha counted. The tape forced her jaw closed as much as possible round the enormous sock stuffing, muffling her desperate cries yet further. Nisha felt like her head would be crushed, wrapped horizontally and vertically with a vice like tightness. As she was being forced to bite down on her socks, sweat was being wrung from them, making the gag somehow taste even worse.

Somehow still not satisfied with the gag, the burglar pressed on. The unforgiving tape was again wrapped round Nisha’s mouth, as cruelly tight as before, but over her lips instead of between them. She again showed no mercy, not stopping until 40 layers had been tightly wrapped and smoothed over her poor mouth. Nisha tried screaming at the top of her voice, but a feeble noise was all that escaped her gag. “Mmmm.” Unable to move her mouth or jaw even slightly, she was reduced to a quiet hum, barely louder than the noise she made blowing air out of her nostrils. No-one would hear her at all. Her only chance of rescue would be for someone to see her; unlikely as she was hidden in a room with no windows, and her husband rarely went down there. She would have to get out on her own.

“It’s rude to talk with your mouth full”
“MmmMmmm”
“Hmm. I thought I heard something. Maybe it was the wind.”
“Mmm”
“I know you’re mad I used the sweaty socks, but clean ones are so boring. Plus, I need them for later”
“MmmMmmMmmm”
“You’ll see. I’m going to grab a chair”

With that, the intruder went upstairs. Nisha struggled. The ropes holding her to the post weren’t very tight, so she would easily escape them in time, but she didn’t have time. She had barely made the rope round her waist wobble when the intruder returned, carrying a heavy wooden dining chair.

Nisha was untied from the pole, and dragged to the sturdy chair. She had attempted to run as soon as she was freed, but in her reverse prayer she stood no chance. The intruder didn’t like this, and pulled the gun from her pocket. This stopped Nisha in her tracks. The intruder went back to her bag of tricks, and pulled out a strange pair of black leather panties, which needed to be fastened with a buckle at the back. This pair of panties had a built plastic 8 inch dildo and 5 inch butt plug attached to the insides. Nisha was horrified. “MmmMmmMmmMmmMmmm” she attempted to scream, shaking her head frantically.
“Open your legs”
Nisha, very reluctantly and slowly, did so. The burglar crawled to the floor, and went about fitting Nisha with the device. From below, the dildo and butt plug were slowly pushed into Nisha’s unwilling holes. “MmmmMmm. Mmmmm” Nisha moaned, her holes being filled completely by the invaders. When the intruder felt the leather of the panties was taut against Nisha’s skin, they were buckled into place. For good measure, three strips of gorilla tape held the panties in place between her legs, and few layers were wrapped round the top lining. The dildo and butt plug were stretching poor Nisha’s vagina and anus to accommodate them. The dildo was a good 2 inches longer than her husband’s penis, and was wider as well. And nothing had ever been inserted in her anus.

“Sit”
Nisha did her best, but she was finding it very difficult to walk, double penetrated as she was. The intruder quickly ran out of patience, and dragged her by her waist to the heavy chair, before forcing her to sit on it. This only forced the dildo and butt plug even further inside her.
“Mmmmm”
“Husband on the small side is he?”
“Mmm”
Nisha was quickly wrapped to the chair in saran wrap. A good 30 layers went tightly round her upper body, mummifying her to the chair. This squashed her tits so much she looked flat chested. To make sure the saran wrap wasn’t sweated off in the heat, this was topped with 2 layers of gorilla tape. The burglar took her time with the tape, ensuring each layer was as tight as could be. When she was finished, Nisha’s upper body was completely cocooned in black. The unforgiving wrappings crushed her reverse prayed tied arms against the back of the chair, causing considerable her considerable pain.

Her upper body completely secured, the intruder went to work on Nisha’s legs. Her right leg was held firmly against the right leg of the chair, and wrapped in gorilla tape to it below the knee. The burglar did the same to the left leg. She bent down, and removed Nisha’s furry slippers. The stench was immediate. Her extremely sweaty feet has been left to fester in what were clearly winter slippers, and as soon as they were removed, the musky smell of the basement was replaced instantly by Nisha’s foul foot odour. Both she and the burglar were both suffering with the smell. Taking shallow breathes, the burglar removes Nisha’s solid gold toe rings, pocketing them. Her hands were damp with Nisha’s foot sweat.
“That’s disgusting”
“Mmmm”

Carrying on, the intruder took the lilac socks from earlier, and put them on Nisha’s feet. She tried moving her feet away, to prevent this from happening, and even thought about kicking out, but the gun ensured her compliance. The socks felt slimy and wet on her feet, still being extremely sweaty from the run two days prior. Next went 20 layers of saran wrap on each foot. Nisha’s horrendous sweaty foot odour was starting to clear, her feet being wrapped in so many layers. The thick, woolly clean socks were forced over Nisha’s saran wrapped feet. Nisha looked at them longingly, wishing the clean, deliciously clean socks were in her mouth than her nasty sweaty ones. After the thick wool socks were pulled over the saran wrapped feet, another 20 layers of saran wrap went on each foot. Now the basement had returned to its original musky smell, Nisha’s sweaty, stinky nasty foot smell disappearing covered in so many layers. The intruder forced Nisha’s furry slippers back on her feet. This was difficult, as all the layers had made Nisha’s feet rather large, but after some pushing, they were finally in place. The slippers were then wrapped in a further 15 layers of saran wrap, and a single layer of gorilla tape. “Now, we won’t have to smell that again”

Saved from Nisha’s foul smelling feet, the intruder wrapped her legs to the legs of the chair with the gorilla tape. 3 layers were used to mummify them to the chair, tight enough for the legs of the chair to dig painfully into her calves. Lower legs sufficiently tied, her upper legs were taped to the seat of the chair, and smoothed down. Nisha was helplessly mummified to the chair in tight layers of saran wrap and gorilla tape. The intruder carefully inspected her work, using strips of tape to cover any area that wasn’t black. Nisha had given up struggling now. She could barely move a single muscle up to her neck. Her feet were encased in so many layers she couldn’t even wiggle her toes.

“We’re almost done now”
“Mmmm?”
“I just need to grab something”
The intruder left, and quickly returned with Nisha’s dreadful trainers. The stench of extremely sweaty, stinky feet filled the room again. She reached into the plastic bag, and took out the toe ends of the same rancid sweaty socks Nisha was enjoying the taste of. She rolled one up into a tube, and forced it up Nisha’s left nostril.
“MmmMmmMmmMMMMMMMMMMM”
“Don’t like the taste and smell of your own feet? Shame. It’s all you’ll be smelling and tasting for a while.”
“MMMMM”
“If you don’t want the toe ends of your nasty, sweaty, smelly, stinky socks up your nose, just tell me.”
“Mmmm. MMMMM!” Nisha cried, shaking her head frantically, making it clear she didn’t want her nose plugged with the fabric. As loud as she had tried to be, the huge amount of tape and socks meant the burglar could barely hear, even though she was right in front of her.
“You must like it then. You’re so nasty. Bet you’re glad I didn’t stuff the clean socks in your mouth” she taunted as the second toe end was stuffed up the other nostril. Nisha’s lungs burned from the unspeakable odour they were forced to endure. There was very little clean air available; it was all being filtered through the toe end of her socks. The burglar cut a strip of tape, and tightly smoothed it diagonally over Nisha’s nostrils. The right nostril was completely sealed by the gorilla tape, and the left one was half sealed. She shook her head, openly weeping. She thought she was going to suffocate due to lack of air.
“Concentrate on your breathing. You can draw enough air through your half open nostril”
Nisha breathed in heavily, and a trace amount of air went into her lungs. As well as a massive hit of her disgusting socks. She would have coughed if she could, but the huge gag prevented her from doing so. She carried on crying as the realisation hit her that to survive, she would have to take enormous breathes of her own dreadful sweaty foot smell. Adding insult to injury, the burglar picked up one of the stinking trainers and taped the open end over her nose. 30 layers were used to make sure Nisha would never smell clean air until she was freed.
“Well, since you like it so much, I thought I’d give you a treat, seeing as you’ll be here for so long”
“Mmmmm.”
“One more thing I should explain. The reason your feet are wrapped like that isn’t to stop the smell, as nice as that is. I can tell by your house your husband is very rich. He will work in a nice air conditioned office, and drive home in a nice air conditioned car. His socks will be far too clean for a suitable gag. So I thought you’d kindly donate some of yours”
“Mmmm.” The amount of layers over Nisha’s feet was making them sweat horrendously. They felt slightly sweatier than when she returned after her run, which was impressive. Nisha could feel the sweat accumulate round her feet, trapped in two pairs of thick socks, her slippers, and 45 layers of saran wrap. She felt as though she was standing barefoot in a deep puddle.
“I hope your husband likes the smell and taste of your sweaty, stinky feet as much as you do”
“MmmMmm” whispered Nisha, shaking her head.
The burglar looked round the basement for anything of value, and found an electric heater. A sick idea entered her head. She plugged it in, turned it on, and put it in between Nisha’s wrapped feet.
“MmmMmmm. MmmMmm.”
“Just in case your feet get cold”, said the burglar, turning the heater up to maximum. Nisha’s feet were painfully hot now, sweating profusely. The intruder sat on the floor and sniffed Nisha’s feet.
“Perfect. I can actually smell them through all that. What a great present for your husband.”
“Mmmm”
“I’d love to stay here and chat, but there are many valuable things I need to relieve you of”
The burglar set about going through the house, room by room, taking large valuable items. Paintings, laptops, things of that nature. Nisha heard the front door open and close often, as the burglar came and went with her and her husband’s belonging. The burglar had a simple, but effective disguise. A few doors away, she had parked her van. On the side was the name of a fake removals company. Who would question someone putting things in a removal van?

While this was going on, Nisha attempted to free herself. She was practically immobile, reverse prayer tied and mummified to a heavy chair. She couldn’t even wiggle her toes. Her poor vagina and anus were plugged with huge dildos, uncomfortable double penetrating her. All she could move were her feet with her ankle joints. There was no slack anywhere, and nothing budged at all. She tried to use her body to move the chair, hoping someone might hear the scraping sound on the concrete floor. But bound as she was, she couldn’t generate any leverage. She couldn’t move the chair a single millimetre. Her feet were swimming in sweat. Despite all the layers, the enormously sweaty stench was seeping out. The heater made her poor feet sweat more, making the odour stronger. The whole room was slowly filling with the smell as it got stronger and stronger.

“Mmm.Mmm.MMM!” she tried to scream for help, but almost no sound escaped from the disgustingly sweaty, stinky socks crammed in her small mouth, held in place by too many layers of gorilla tape to count. Her nose was plugged with the ends of her socks, and one of her running trainers was taped over her mouth, so all she could smell and taste was her own sweaty, stinky, nasty foot smell.

Remembering their earlier conversation, the burglar returned at 5:25, and hid under the stairs, lying in wait. At 5:34, Charles opened the door and entered his own house. He had a nice job in finance, and as the burglar guessed earlier, and avoided the extremely hot temperature via air conditioning.
“Darling, I’m home”
Having received no reply, he sat on the sofa, and removed his shoes and tie. He noticed his prized painting was missing. “Nisha?” Still no reply.
As Charles explored his house, he noticed various things missing. TVs, laptops, more expensive works of art. He searched upstairs, and found it as normal. Confused, he thought of the one room he hadn’t checked, a part of the house he never went in. The basement.

Opening the door, a faint smell of feet offended his sense of smell. The further he got into the basement, the stronger the smell became. Walking down the stairs, he turned on the light, and got the shock of his life. The sight of his beautiful, beloved wife massively bound and gagged. Nisha tried to warn her husband of the danger they were both in, but she couldn’t move a muscle, and he was too far away of hear her tiny cries.
“Mmmm. Mmmm” she tried screaming frantically, shaking her head, anything, but it was no good.
“Nisha!, Are you Okarrgh.” Charles fell in a crumpled heap on the floor. The burglar had clubbed him in the back of the head with her pistol.

[harukatsukino]

Hi Zerg, I love this so much will u consider the F/M part pleez?