Okay – for the record, I was in a bad mood. I know that doesn’t exactly pardon my behaviour, but it does kind of explain it? Maybe. Anyway.

So I’d recently bought a new flat. It wasn’t quite the penthouse, but it was a good 10 floors up and in the right side of town, the kind of place you get when you’re on the way up. I hadn’t been really looking at the Heights, because I figured it was out of my price range, but then this contemporary style apartment had come up when I’d widened my search area; 2 bed, open plan living and kitchen, recently refitted bathroom… and for 10% under the market price, reduced for a quick sale, cash buyers preferred. Plus, there was even a resident’s car park underneath the building, so no more fighting for the perfect parking spot.

I went over it, loved it, but that lowered price really got me confused. When I asked the guy selling, a trust fund blond jock called Ryan, why there was the discount, he went tomato red. Muttered something inarticulate about him wanting to ‘cut the cords’ and ‘move on with his life’, and I didn’t really buy that. As my Dad always said – there’s always a catch. I got a builder mate to look over the building though, after the normal inspection, and it came up clean, recently rewired, new boiler, all the doors up to fire code, working fire escape, the works, and he came up blank on anything wrong with the house except for one of the cupboards in the kitchen needing a new bottom after the sink had clearly leaked at one point. Even the service charges and ground rent were at decent levels.

So, despite my misgivings, it actually seemed clear. I put an offer in, he snapped it up. Of course, it took a month longer than expected to get the mortgage through and the keys exchanged, but there I was, my own place, at last. I splashed some colour around, switched out the square white sofas and black square furniture out for things with some curves and more practical colour schemes, got myself a nice thick rug for the living room and took great glee in reverse parking into my dedicated spot in the basement car park. No matter how bad work got, how high-pressure it was, how many times our team got told they were useless and held over to get a project finished, I had this little oasis to retreat to, where I could curl up in my plushy armchair with a glass of rum and stare out over the lights of city and feel like a supervillain until I finally destressed enough to sleep.

It was my little haven. My safe place. Which is probably why I reacted so badly to some-one invading it.

I’d been in the flat about a month at this point. My boss had been in particularly bad mood – the CEO had been pissed about something, who kicked my bosses’ boss, who kicked my boss, who kicked me – it was the usual chain of kicking. And of course, no-one had been happy until I’d pulled overtime to get things fixed, so, it was gone 8 in the evening at this point, I’d managed to grab a sandwich at some point at a time that was vaguely near lunchtime, but had nothing else all day, so I was starving, tired and grumpy into the bargain. At least the lift had been working – I have no idea how bad I would have been if I’d had to take the stairs.

I let myself into my flat and went to hang up my coat on the coat-rail on the wall, to find… some-one else’s coat. It was a long coat of midnight purple wool, and while it was long enough to be mine, it definitely wasn’t broad enough. It was a skinny person’s coat, and while I’m not exactly obese, no-one has ever referred to me as ‘skinny’. Underneath it, casually kicked off, were a pair of purple high-tops, in a size that definitely wasn’t mine. I paused, then reopened the door and glanced outside. Yup, number 9a – definitely my flat, and the furniture was definitely mine too… although… not how I had left it.

A pair of black jeans were hanging over the back of the sofa, again, in a size too small to be mine, and a silvery-lilac silk shirt was draped over the coffee table. A bottle of wine stood open on the kitchen island, the corkscrew – cork still impaled on it – casually dropped onto the work surface, and 2 wine glasses next to it, one clearly having been already used. There was a scent hanging in the air too that wasn’t the wine. It was none of the perfumes I used, a more musky, male orientated smell that I definitely did not recognise. I dipped my hand into my pocket, pulling out my phone, one hand still on the front door…

“You’re not running out on me, are you lover?” A voice called. “Why not just shut the door and come and play? Hurry up and get in here - the only thing missing is you!”

It was a man’s voice with a soft husky edge, but a snide, arrogant tone to it that set my temper spiking again. The shock and fear were bleeding back into irritation, and when I realised that the voice was coming from my bedroom, full on bled into anger. I shut the door, but kept my keys in my hand, the other in contact with my phone, as I slowly headed towards my bedroom.

“I see you weren’t kidding when you said you were going to make some changes,” The voice continued. “I see you’ve redecorated. I really can’t commend you on it, it looks a little disjointed compared to the whole contemporary chic you had going before. And since when have you been a rum person? Good job I brought some wine, isn’t it, or I’d have had to go sober all evening. Do help yourself, by the way.”

Needless to say, that little quip didn’t improve my mood. Some stranger broke into my house, had poked around in my alcohol cabinet and now had the balls to comment on my decorating skills? Let alone offer me wine in my own house. I padded across the thick rug in the living room towards the darkened bedroom.

“You’re quiet,” The voice continued. “I was expecting you to make more of a scene about me being back in the country. I mean, you could at least pretend to have missed me? Ah well, I brought plenty of new toys back for us to play with, so you can show me how much you missed me instead…”

I finally reached the doorway of my bedroom and looked inside. It was darkened in there, my… housebreaker had dimmed the lights almost as far as they could go and was thrown carelessly across the foot of my king-sized bed, his butt facing me, facing the big floor to ceiling window looking out at the sparkling lights of the city. I stopped in the doorway, taking a long look at him.

He was a slim, gangly shape, the lightly muscled curve of his butt picked out perfectly in slightly shiny black spandex briefs, which were literally his only covering. I took time to appreciate his form, with some clearly defined muscle in his legs and across his back, and also the black tattoos swirling down the entirety of his right leg and swirling over his left hip. There was more over both arms and forming inked pauldrons over his shoulders and back. They were nicely done, I had to admit that. Asides from the tight black briefs, the only thing breaking his nudity were tight black cuffs, trimmed in purple on his wrists and ankles, and a matching black collar with silver spikes around his long neck.

He was, as I had previously said, lolloping over my bed, his one foot casually waving in the air as he propped himself up on his elbows, casually turning over the pages of a BDSM magazine infront of him. Now he looked up, catching the reflection of my silhouette in the mirror. Due to the lights outside and the brighter light of the living room behind me, he clearly didn’t notice I wasn’t the person he was expecting. He gave a cat-like stretch, but didn’t look around.

"I would have called, but it looks like you blocked me. Still, I know you never can resist this ass,” He purred.

Dropping his leg, he arched his back and waved his spandex covered butt in my direction.

"You're really lucky, you know, I nearly started without you..." He observed snidely.

I admired him, but also the sheer overconfidence of the guy. His good looks had momentarily distracted me, but as I looked around and saw my bedroom, my sanctum, in disarray, I felt it spike again. He was lying, mostly naked, on my nice clean sheets that I had been dreaming about sliding into all day, and that wasn’t all. Next to him was a pile of bondage gear; including 4 different butt-plugs of different sizes and a set of anal beads, a blindfold, a huge purple ball gag, lube, a selection of vibrators and a couple of condoms. Well. This guy was clearly expecting to get lucky. Well… maybe this was his lucky day.

Tucking my keys into my pocket and letting go of my phone, I stepped forwards, grabbed him by the ankles and pulled him sharply backwards. He wasn’t expecting the movement and his head got pulled into the duvet cover as he was tugged abruptly backwards. Reaching past him, I picked up one of the padlocks and snapped it through the D-rings on his ankle cuffs. He’d already locked them onto himself, I noticed. Well, it saved me a job. Before he could make another remark, I’d jumped ontop of him, sat on his butt with my legs straddling him, then caught his wrists and locked them together too. There was a duffle bag at the bottom of my bed, lying there unzipped, and there were more cuffs ontop. Picking 2 up, I strapped them above his elbows and likewise locked them together.

He tried to raise his head from the duvet, but I pushed his head warningly back down into the covers. He made a muffled protest, but from the way he shuddered underneath me, rather than struggled, I figured he actually quite liked it. Well, let’s give the guy what he wants, eh? I gazed at the line of butt plugs – all purple, this seemed to be a theme. There was also a long dildo vibrator, also purple. Well… it would be rude not to. Casually, I took a squirt of lube and worked it over the length of the dildo, then, pulling down his briefs with one hand, used my lube covered hand to smear some lube onto his arsehole, then start to massage it in. I felt him squirm and moan beneath me as I did, gasping as I slipped a lubed finger inside him, then another, then removed both and pressed the lubed vibrator up against his spincter. He seemed to hold his breath and I held it there for a second, teasing him with the tip before I and pushed it firmly into place. He groaned, shuddering against the duvet, but I left it unpowered, for now. Tugging his briefs back up, I gave him a sharp little smack on the butt cheek.

Something metal clinked against my leg as I adjusted my position. A chastity cage had been laid out amongst the bondage goods, and had slid towards the depression of my knee. I grinned and gave it the once-over. Yeah, I knew how this model worked. And it save me having to get my own selection of bondage gear out for him. I swung myself off him and then flipped him over, casually returning to sit on his legs to stop any chance of him making a break for it.

I caught one glance of his arrogant face, before the expression changed to total shock. He was curiously delicate, almost feminine, with a sharp jaw, angular eyebrows, big, smoky eyes outlined in black eyeliner, a delicate little button nose and big pouty lips, stained a dark purple like fresh blackberries. His face was framed by purple hair, shorter at the bottom like an undercut, with longer tousled waves at the top, casually ruffled in a way that would take hours to perfect. His ears were full of piercings and there were 2 nose rings on his right nostril. He was all shades of a pretty bad-boy, I had to admit.

“Oh, uh, hey,” He stammered, trying to keep some level of bravado, but failing totally. “I… um…”

He clearly had been enjoying my treatment of him up until now, because those spandex briefs had been making quite the bulge, but now, as I gave him a withering look, both he and it shrank, noticeably.

“I… um…” He said again stupidly. “Are you… Ryan’s girlfriend?” He gave me the once over, that haughty look coming back, his upper lip curling. “Or maybe his housekeeper?”

That barb hurt. Up until that moment, I had been toying with letting him go. And now… I gave him a tart smile.

“No honey, I’m the houseowner,” I told him tartly. “Ryan sold this place to me 2 months ago.”

I calmly hooked my finger around the elastic waistband of his briefs and pulled them down to reveal his genitals beneath. He tried to sit up to stop me, but landed on the vibrator buried in his butt and gave a low groan and flopped back.

“Then… where’d he…” He broke off with a soft moan as I took a casual grip on his shaft.

“Where’d he go?” I completed, adeptly sliding the cock cage into place around his penis and balls. “No idea. Couldn’t care less, either. Probably should have taken the hint he dropped about changing the locks, but it’s been a busy couple of months, you know?”

I found a lock small enough for the cage and fed it through the rings on the cage. That seemed to galvanise him.

“Hey, um, look, this is a total misunderstanding,” He stammered quickly.

I met his eyes.

“I don’t give a shit,” I said easily, and clicked the lock shut.

We stared at each other for a long moment, and then I reached forwards, grabbing the ring in his collar and pulling him forwards so our faces were inches apart.

“This is my house,” I breathed. “My safe place from all of the bullshittery out there, away from stupid, demanding arrogant people who think they own me, and then you crash in, make a mess, demand a whole lot of things you have no right to? And then to top it off, you not only criticise my house and my taste, you have the sheer balls to call me the housekeeper? Nah, honey. There may have been a misunderstanding, but we’re way past that now.”

I slid a hand up his thigh and rested it there, thumb brushing his now metal-encased cock, staring straight into his wide, blue eyes.

“But thank you, for explaining exactly why Ryan ran for the hills,” I added with a predatory smile. “I guess you might also be responsible for the 10% discount I got on the place?”

He was panting, I could feel him squirming against all of the restraints, shifting his pinned legs underneath me as he tried to edge away, but my grip remained on his collar and my other hand was just a whisper from his captive balls. His eyes flickered away, and the back up to meet mine. It was a strange look, not quite fear, not quite arousal.

“What are you going to do with me?” He asked shakily.

I grinned, now gently running my fingers up over his abs, feeling him groan as he tried to pull away, only to sit on the inert vibrator again and send a wave of pleasure through him.

“I’d hate to ruin the surprise,” I breathed. “But… for now…”

I picked up the big purple ball gag, still holding his collar in my right hand.

“I’m done talking,” I purred. “Open up Purple.”

He met my gaze levelly.

“And if I don’t?” he countered.

“Then you’ll end up wearing it anyway,” I grinned. “Go ahead and try me.”

He shut his mouth tight and I actually laughed. Letting abruptly go of his collar, he fell back to the duvet and I slid up him, sat firmly on his chest now, pinning his captive arms behind him. A swift, painful twist of his nipple made him cry out and then the ballgag was at his lips and I’d forced it past his teeth. Holding it tight in place, I flipped him again, buckling it securely behind and then locking it in place. He gave a muffled moan as I spanked his butt again, this time a little harder.

“Mnn cnn'ph hmmp mm mnhm phhnph!” he protested into the duvet. “Mmph mm gn mnn hnphch!”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever that was, I’m sure it was very rousing,” I picked up the blindfold and snapped it over his head, more of a challenge than you’d think with all the hair in the way. “Maybe your Mummy and Daddy will come riding in to rescue you from the bad lady. I’m sure you had the foresight to tell some-one where you were going?”

I felt him freeze underneath me as I said that, and I actually laughed again.

“Oh Purple, you really are an idiot,” I snickered. “Now I get to keep you for as long as I like.”

And now he actually started struggling, bucking underneath me, wrenching his arms and legs this way and that, keening through the gag, and I just rode it, still giggling, until he tired himself out. I popped up off the bed, hauling him to his feet by his arms, then caught him by the collar again. Snagging a length of chain and another padlock from the bed, I gave a tug on the ring of the collar.

“Come on little bunny, hop on with me.”

With a few more swats to his butt, I managed to coax him out into the living room and in front of my favourite window. Forcing him to his knees, and then back down onto his belly, I giggled again as he squeaked as he met the cold tiles of the living room floor. I secured his hands and feet cuffs together with the short length of chain and the padlock, effectively hogtying him, then paused to admire the effect and took a few pictures on my phone for good measure. Considering him for a moment, I set my phone up on the floor, nearby enough to get Purple in the centre of the frame without any risk of him being able to knock it over, and, setting it to video mode, I angled it at Purple, then stepped in close. Putting a foot on his lower back to pin him to the floor, I once again pulled down the back of his briefs, having to put a bit more pressure on his back to hold him still as I did.

He gave a deep, guttural moan, that I was so glad I’d managed to record, as I switched the vibe on, and then whimpered softly as I adjusted it to the right level, just a gentle tease. Not enough to really get him even close to ejaculating, but not low enough for him to ever be able to ignore. Leaving my phone to record, I padded around to the living room, smiling at the continued moans, muffled pleas and sounds of writhing of his body on the cold tiles.

I picked up his discarded shirt, folding it neatly, and then picked up his jeans. As expected, they were heavier than jeans normally were. In one pocket was a wallet and his keys. Flicking through the wallet, I found his ID, swiftly memorising his name and address, before replacing them. I found the key that was the duplicate of my front key and removed it from the keyring. I’d get those locks replaced next weekend, I promised myself, then replaced the keys in his pocket as well. In the other pocket was his phone. It was locked, disappointingly, but it did have a finger scanner. Ah well, I could unlock that later then.

Sliding the phone into my own pocket, I returned to the kitchen and poured myself a glass of wine, a semi-expensive red, I noticed from the label. I sauntered back to my favourite chair, setting the glass on the table next to me and then curled up like a cat in my chair, I sat and watched him, smiling to myself. So many times I’d had the fantasy of being a supervillain, staring out over the city from my secret lair, and now… Now I really felt it. And I had a whole weekend to play with my unexpected guest.

I sipped the wine with a savage smile. He really did complete the fantasy.

“I guess you’re right Purple,” I remarked out loud. “The only thing missing was you.”